Two Steps Back
by Linnie22
Summary: Sequel to Can't Go Home Again. Lindsay's back in New York and walking on eggshells with Danny. DL. General 3rd season spoilers
1. Chapter 1

A.N. Welcome to the sequel to Can't Go Home Again. Thanks again to everyone who stuck with and reviewed Can't Go Home Again. Hopefully, this story will

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"Messer."

She swallowed when she heard his voice, suddenly unsure of what to say. Opening her mouth, she couldn't force anything except air past her lips.

"Montana?" His voice sounded worried now, and she wanted to kick herself.

"Yeah, sorry. Hey."

"Hey. How's it going?"

"It's over." She hesitated. "He's going to be moved to maximum security next week."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I think I am," she murmured. "When they gave the verdict I felt…clean. I don't know. I—I don't want to watch the execution."

"All right." She could hear the confusion in his voice, and bit her lip. When he didn't press her, she wasn't sure if she liked or hated this Danny of the even tone and calm demeanor. Danny was rarely calm and he certainly couldn't sit still. She wanted the old Danny back. "When are you coming back?" he asked after a long pause.

And he wanted the old Lindsay. Resting her head against the headboard, she buried her feet under her quilt. "Next week, I hope. I don't have my ticket, yet."

"Let me know when you find out?"

"Yeah," she murmured.

"Now, about that pizza tour of the city." His voice was lively again and she could feel a smile tugging at her lips.

"What about it?"

"I think we should start with Bernie's."

"Bernie's?" she repeated incredulously. "Where is that?"

"Down an alley off Delancey."

"In an alley," she said wryly, leaning back on the bed. "Why am I even surprised?"

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"I'll set up an appointment for the psych eval. You're going to be stuck in the lab for awhile," Mac warned her, lifting the folder with her paperwork and handing it across the desk.

Lindsay nodded. "I figured it would be something like that." Picking up a pen, she flipped open the folder and signed on the dotted line at the bottom of the page.

When she'd handed it back and Mac had signed his name, he closed it and tossed it into his Out box. Then he smiled. "Welcome back."

She couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face as she stood and nervously smoothed her shirt. "Thanks for everything, Mac."

Mac shook his head. "You did this, Lindsay, no one else."

Then he motioned towards the door and she turned to precede him out only to stumble to a stop when she saw the small group of people waiting outside for her. Stella was grinning, clutching a manila folder to her chest. Hawkes had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his labcoat. Even Flack was hovering behind the rest of the group with his usual grin. Arms crossed over his chest and feet braced apart, Danny looked as cool and collected as ever with his tiny smile.

She hadn't seen any of them since her return earlier that morning. She'd gotten off the plane, taken a cab back to her apartment to drop off her luggage and then come straight to the crime lab to see Mac. She'd been planning on trying to find all of them after she'd gotten the paperwork squared away. Considering she'd only been in the place for ten minutes, she wondered how they even knew she was in the building.

Mac swung the door open, and Lindsay descended the stairs with a smile. "Hey, guys."

"Welcome back," Stella said, wrapping her in a hug.

"Thanks. It's good to see you."

As soon as Stella let go, Hawkes swept her up, almost lifting her off her feet. Flack gently socked her in the shoulder. "Good to have you back, Monroe."

Slightly overwhelmed, Lindsay glanced around at everyone with a fragile smile. Reaching up, she ran a hand through her hair. "Sorry guys, I'm still a bit jet-lagged. I took the redeye."

"Why would you do that?" Flack asked in disbelief.

"I'm a masochist?" she replied with a laugh, trying not to notice Danny's silence.

Suddenly, Adam came careening around one of the corners, skidding to a halt a few inches from the group. "Mac, I—"

When he noticed her, he stopped and smiled shyly. "Lindsay, hey. Welcome back."

"Hey, Adam. How's it going?"

"Good, good." His eyes were mostly focused on the paper he was holding, but he managed to glance up at her a couple of times.

"What have you got for me?" Mac asked him, gesturing towards his office. Adam followed him inside with another nervous smile and small wave. Watching him go, Lindsay shook her head, trying to hide a chuckle.

"What are your plans for the night?" Stella asked, stepping closer to Lindsay as Hawkes squeezed her arm and wandered back to the lab, mumbling about trace.

Lindsay let out a sigh. "Unpacking probably. Then sleep."

"How do you feel about a little company? Some take-out maybe?"

She didn't let herself think about it, just nodded. "Sure, sounds great. Give me a call when you're heading over?"

"Good. See you tonight," Stella called as she backed down the hallway, pointing seriously at Lindsay before waving. Lindsay watched her stride purposefully down the hall, her curls bouncing behind her until she turned a corner.

Flack had wandered a few feet away to chat with Angell, a detective Lindsay had never worked with. Glancing at Danny, she saw him eyeing her speculatively. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What, Messer?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." Some of his usual stalwartness faded and he leaned forward. "How you doing?"

She shrugged. "I'm all right, I think," she murmured, letting the corner of her mouth lift a fraction. "Long flight."

"Believe me, I remember," he said wryly, moving his shoulders as though he still felt stiff.

For some reason, she felt a wave of nervousness flood her. Danny had seen her at her very worst—well, almost—had heard all her secrets, and she still felt shy when he stared at her with that intense expression. How could that be possible?

It made her eyes settle somewhere near his left her rather than meeting his eyes and she nearly groaned when he frowned. "You should have called me," Danny murmured, stepping closer to her. "I would have picked you up."

"You had to work," she whispered back, surreptitiously glancing at Flack and Angell to see if they were listening. They didn't seem to be, but that didn't mean anything with detectives.

Danny stared down at her for a minute, then nodded. "I should get back to that," he said in a normal tone.

She didn't say anything as he backed away, then turned and stepped over to where Angell was leaning against the wall. "You ready?" Lindsay heard the other woman ask.

He jerked his head in the affirmative and Lindsay started down the hall, pretending not to notice Angell's curious glance. Somehow she'd expected everything to be simpler, despite the newest complication in her confusing relationship with Danny. But everything seemed just as twisted and convoluted as when she left.

She rubbed her temple as the elevator doors closed behind her, not noticing the other patrons staring at her as she tapped her foot impatiently. She'd wanted to hug Danny when she saw him, but was that appropriate? She'd hugged Stella and Hawkes, but everyone was aware of the tension between she and Danny…that made a difference, right?

They weren't dating, but he was insisting on waiting for her. What did that mean, what did waiting entail? Did he mean he wouldn't be seeing other women or he just wouldn't get emotionally involved?

And, considering she had been the one to stuff them into their awkward position, was she really allowed to care this much about the answers to those questions?

The elevator doors slid open on the first floor, and Lindsay pushed past everyone else getting off. He'd been very clear about what he wanted, so she wasn't sure why she was so confused.

As much as she wanted to give in to him, she couldn't risk betting on her own sanity. The ground still felt unstable beneath her, and she knew that she wasn't ready to be with Danny. Because Danny was a force to be reckoned with, and she was too weak to even know her own mind.

To be with Danny, she needed to be strong. She didn't want to screw things up with him like she had before. Oh, she knew it had been the right decision, just as she'd known it then. But she truly hadn't meant to freak out and stand him up that night.

And she also knew that if she relented now and let him in, she might do something similar. He could forgive her once, but twice?

Even once was pushing it in her book.

She hid a sigh as she let the crowd sweep her onto the subway. It really didn't help that he was so damn wonderful about it all.

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Lindsay gently unfolded the scrap of paper underneath the light. One curl slid down into her eyes and she blew it out of the way without pausing in her painstakingly slow movements. She could just barely make out the impressions of writing on the paper, but not what it said.

Swinging the lamp out of the way, she straightened and walked to the magnetizing machine. She was just finishing when Stella came through the doorway behind her.

"Hey, Lindsay, whatcha got?"

Without looking up from carefully peeling the plastic away, Lindsay shook her head. "Not sure yet. It's just a bunch of seemingly unconnected words."

"River, cloud, elephant, crowbar?" Stella read out loud, her tone incredulous. "What the hell?"

"Maybe it was a code?" Lindsay offered, making a face as she began to move to the next piece of trace.

"Maybe our vic liked doing crosswords."

Stella and Lindsay both glanced up as Danny sauntered into the room. He nodded in greeting to Lindsay before turning to Stella. "Angell just called me. A witness stepped forward, says she saw the vic this morning."

"This morning?" Stella frowned. "But when we found him, he was still in bed."

"Or he'd just gotten in," Danny pointed out, folding his arms across his chest.

Sighing, Stella picked up the folder she'd been carrying with her. "Let's go talk to her then. Call me when you get the rest of the results, Lindsay?"

Nodding, Lindsay felt a wave of frustration as they swept from the room with quick goodbyes. She hated being stuck in the lab processing trace. Sure it was interesting and she loved the science of it, but the mystery was outside; the real excitement found in the questioning and investigating. In the lab, she wasn't part of the team and it was really starting to grate on her nerves.

The sharp anger she felt didn't make her hands any less gentle as she took a sample of the powder found at the scene. Paper, powder, sticky substance. It was all the same, and she was starting to get really bored.

When the results on the powder and wet jelly-like substance came back, she called Stella immediately, hoping her voice would stay even and controlled. The last thing she wanted was Stella telling Mac that Lindsay needed to talk to someone about her feelings. Particularly since she hadn't quite gotten around to seeing the first someone.

Stella's voicemail picked up and Lindsay spoke quickly to hide the annoyance in her voice. "Hey Stel. I ran the powder and jelly. They're actually the same thing, just different forms: grape jello with traces of arsenic."

Hanging up, Lindsay slipped the phone back into her pocket and put all the results together in a folder. She knew she should have gone to the psych evaluation in a more timely fashion. She'd done therapy before at her parents' insistence; she knew the drill. And she knew how to say all the right things to get the All Clear sign.

But her mind was such a jumble right now that she wasn't sure she could say those things effectively. She might let something slip about how the dreams weren't going away. Or how Danny was starting to make frequent appearances in those nightmares, replacing her friends as the victim. And she might just say something about how her father hadn't spoken more than "hello" "goodbye" and "pass the potatoes" to her in almost four years.

So, really, going to a psychiatrist right now wasn't a viable option. In fact, it would be downright dangerous.

Shaking her head, she finished one of the samples from Mac's case just as Stella and Danny came rushing through the door. "Arsenic?" Stella yelled.

Lindsay took an involuntary step back and gestured at the folder. "And jello," she offered tentatively.

Stella snatched up the folder as Danny stepped up behind her to read over her shoulder. When she finished reading, she closed it and smacked it up against Danny's chest. Automatically, he raised a hand to catch it.

Lindsay felt her eyebrows rise up her forehead as Stella stomped out of the room again, muttering in Italian. Or, actually, it might have been Greek, Lindsay wasn't really sure. Meeting Danny's eyes, she silently pointed after Stella's rapidly retreating form.

"Our vic died of strangulation. So, this just means he had someone else trying to kill him," he explained, lifting the folder.

"Popular guy," Lindsay said wryly, swallowing when Danny grinned at her. "You should probably catch her."

Laughing, Danny shook his head. "She's on the warpath. Nobody can catch her now."

When he was gone again, Lindsay looked down at the tie she'd been examining. The room seemed a little less claustrophobic, but she sighed bitterly and bent over the fabric. She had to get through that psych eval.

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"Miss Monroe," the doctor said seriously, resting one hand against his cheek. "Tell me about the dreams."

She recognized the posture. It was designed to make him seem interested, yet, at the same time, intelligent. She was pretty sure it was based off of The Thinker.

"Nightmares," she corrected calmly. "They come back every once in awhile, but they usually don't stick around for long."

He waited a moment, pretending to make a note of that, then pressed forward. "And what happens in them?"

Shrugging, Lindsay casually crossed one leg over the other. "Sometimes I remember, sometimes I don't. Usually it's just a reenactment of the shooting."

"Usually?"

Damn. "Sometimes they're less…clear."

"What do you mean?"

Stifling a sigh, Lindsay tried to appear as though she were actually considering the question. "Once, it was a dog instead of my friends," she offered, wrinkling her brow. "But that might have nothing to do with the PTSD."

The doctor nodded, jotting something down. "How do you feel now that the trial is over?"

"Relieved."

"That now you can move on in your life?" the doctor asked, tipping his head to the side with an understanding expression.

"It didn't rule my life to begin with," Lindsay told him, her tone even, though she was careful not to make it cold. "I'm just glad I was able to help bring him to justice."

The doctor nodded again, and Lindsay could see an easiness in his eyes. Yeah, that positive eval was practically bronzed and already on Mac's desk.

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"Hey," Stella greeted as Lindsay slipped into the booth next to her. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," Lindsay told her, shrugging her jacket down her shoulders. She had no desire to talk about her psychiatric experience. "What is that?" she asked, nodding at the drink Hawkes wordlessly slid in front of her.

"Lemondrop," he said with a grin.

"A lemondrop?" Lindsay laughed. "I'm more of a white wine girl, Hawkes."

"Or Fat Tire." Lindsay's eyes darted up to meet Danny's as he placed the beer next to the martini glass and sat down across from her.

Her smile felt a little shy as she glanced between the two men. "Thanks guys."

"Which is gonna be, Montana?" Danny asked, his smile taunting.

She raised an eyebrow. "Who said I couldn't have both?"

"Gotta pick one," Danny insisted. Lindsay watched in fascination as his eyes twinkled mischievously behind his glasses. As she stared, the mischief turned a little wicked, making her swallow convulsively.

To cover, she raised an eyebrow and regarded him with a superior expression. "Class or crass, whichever will I choose?"

"Since when are you too good for beer?"

Stella shook her head at their strange argument. "I need a refill."

Standing to let her out, Lindsay started to slide back in when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up to find Flack standing next to her. "Mind if I slide in?" he asked, pointing at the seat.

"Sure," she said, glancing back at the blonde Flack had vacated in favor of the rapidly crowding booth. "Blondie not interesting enough for you?"

"One drink not enough for you?"

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, eyes darting between the two glasses. Sighing, she picked up the lemondrop and took an experimental sip. Not too bad, but a little sweet.

"What's with the girly drink?" Flack asked, nursing his own beer, which—like Danny's—was still in the bottle. "I thought you were a beer girl."

"White wine, actually," Hawkes corrected him. Danny laughed as Lindsay glared at them all.

Bringing the martini glass to her mouth with a determined expression, Lindsay drained the sweet drink and flipped the glass upside down. "Thanks, Hawkes," she said calmly.

Hawkes was staring at her, and Flack laughed in disbelief. For some reason, Danny just smirked at her, like he really wasn't surprised.

Almost immediately, a cocktail waitress sauntered up to the table to smile down at Lindsay. "Did you need another drink?" she asked.

Lindsay felt her cheeks flushing as she realized that she'd made a bit of a spectacle of herself. "No thanks," she said with an overly bright smile.

"Just let me know if I can get you anything."

The words were obviously meant for Lindsay, but the waitress's eyes were locked on Danny as she spoke. When he merely smiled and took a sip of his beer, the waitress moved away again, hips swinging provocatively.

A sour taste filled Lindsay's mouth and she picked up her beer to try and drown it. Beautiful women had never bothered her before; she'd never been particularly jealous of large breasts, blonde hair or eyes that were a more interesting color than brown. Really, she'd just assumed that after growing up with the junior Miss Montana she'd never feel envious of beauty. Shelby had never put much stock in it, so neither had Lindsay.

But suddenly, after twenty eight years of indifference towards appearance, she found herself wishing to be more than 5'2" and an A cup with hair she kept short out of convenience. It was ridiculous. Danny had made his interest very clear, so she knew that she shouldn't feel so unappealing. But a part of her doubted he was driven by physical attraction when he asked her out. He was used to tall, leggy women with coy smiles.

Lindsay didn't know how to be coy.

Flack was relating a story from the precinct when she tuned back into the conversation and the guys were laughing. Unsure what the punchline had been, Lindsay suddenly felt exhausted. She smiled brightly when Flack glanced at her, but dropped her eyes back to her beer.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her head and began pulling on her coat. The guys looked at her as she stood. "I'm sorry, guys, I'm gonna head out."

"What? It's only nine thirty," Flack argued, glancing at his watch.

Lindsay sent him another glancing smile. "I'm pretty tired."

His face grew serious. "It was all that getting in touch with your feelings, right?"

It surprised her into laughing. "Yes, that was exactly it. I should stop doing that."

"That's what I'm saying," he agreed. When she pulled out her wallet, he raised a hand. "Whoa. What you think you're doing? Put that away."

"Sorry." Lindsay smiled, but her eyes were wide in mock horror. "I didn't mean to insult your masculine sensibilities."

"Don't worry about it. You get a free pass this time."

Shaking her head, she started to button her coat and her gaze darted over to Danny. He wasn't even looking at her, staring across the bar. Sighing, she looked around for Stella and found her near the end chatting with a guy. She also found Danny's point of interest. The buxom cocktail waitress was leaning over the bar to display her cleavage to its best advantage to a customer.

"Could you say goodnight to Stella for me? I don't want to interrupt." They nodded and she waved a bit at them. "Thanks for the drinks guys. Have a good night."

Pushing her way out of the crowded room, she saw Detective Angell pass her going in the direction of the booth. At the door, Lindsay glanced back and saw her sliding into her vacated seat and smiling directly at Danny. Who knew someone's teeth could be so white?

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He might have had one too many. His head was only buzzing, but he'd long ago given up the Drink to Get Drunk philosophy. So he was a little surprised when the room tilted for an instant as he stood.

It righted itself immediately and didn't move again, but he knew a cab was calling his name somewhere. "All right," he said. "I'm out."

Hawkes had disappeared an hour or so after Lindsay, leaving Flack and Angell for company. Stella seemed to have disappeared with the goodlooking guy from the bar.

As he pushed his way through the crowd, he felt someone tap his shoulder. Glancing back, he found Angell following him. "Wanna share a cab?" she asked, pulling on her jacket.

"Sure." He really didn't, but what could he say? No?

Outside, they didn't say anything as Danny whistled for a cab. Sliding in first, she gave her address, leaving Danny to wonder how things were about to play out. He had a pretty good idea, considering she'd spent the last couple of hours flirting with him, but he was hoping he was wrong.

The ride to her place was spent making small talk, mostly about work. He tried to come up with more than one or two syllable answers, but it was difficult to make his brain cut through the awkwardness.

After what seemed like a millennium, they pulled up in front of her building and she paused while reaching for the door handle. "You want coffee?" she asked with a small smile and coy head tilt.

Shit. "Nah. I'm just gonna head home."

Her eyes caught his and he tried to look apologetic. He just wanted to get to his apartment and pass out for a few days. Pretend this whole conversation never happened. Maybe pretend he'd never kissed her in the first place.

"Monroe?" Angell asked quietly, eyes curious as they searched his face. His eyes jerked away involuntarily. "Really?"

She sounded so surprised he looked at her sharply. "What's that mean?"

"Nothing," Angell said with a shrug. "Just doesn't seem like your type is all."

"My type?" He scoffed, turning away in irritation.

"You in or out?" the cabbie snapped.

"Keep your pants on," Angell snapped back. "It's not like you stopped the meter."

The driver started to mutter obscenities under his breath, but the meter was indeed still running so he didn't argue. Danny shook his head at the absurdity of the whole situation. He was aware that he owed Angell this conversation, but did it have to take place in a cab?

"Look, Messer. I just want to see where that night was heading."

"It wasn't heading anywhere," Danny muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Let me get this straight," she said, beginning to sound irritated herself. "You're not together, but you're not available for one night?"

Taking a deep breath, he lifted his head to meet her gaze. They stared at each other for a minute then Angell shrugged and opened her door.

"Suit yourself." She handed the driver a twenty then glanced at Danny. "For the record, you don't know what you're missing."

He tiredly gave the driver his address and dropped his head back against the seat. He was pretty sure he knew what he was missing, and it was definitely tempting. Angell was, without a doubt, beautiful. Even the way she walked said she was aware of the effect she had on men. Confidence like that generally indicated that a woman knew a million ways to make you scream.

So, he was pretty sure he could picture what he'd just turned down. And he knew that Lindsay had told him he could see other people; told him not to wait.

He was attracted to other women, always would be whether Lindsay eventually came around or…But the idea of following through made him feel cheap. Sure, he had watched the bar waitress a bit; she'd been on display. Would you ignore a Monet hanging in front of you? Sure, he flirted with Angell; he flirted with every woman.

And it had been a very long time since he'd had sex. Too long, for him. He hadn't gone this long since…since puberty, he suddenly realized. The thought was staggering, and made him feel more than a little uncomfortable.

But, even though other women caught his eye, Lindsay was the only one he wanted to touch. And not even in a sexual way—not always anyway. Sometimes, like earlier that day while she was reading the trace results for his case, he wanted to brush his fingers against her cheek just to make sure she was really there; make sure she actually existed.

That was definitely new.

The cab pulled up in front of his apartment, and he paid the guy extra for having to listen to the embarrassing conversation. Outside, he trudged up the steps and into the cold entryway of his building.

Lindsay had been back for nearly a month now, and—to his chagrin—they seemed to be back where they'd started before she'd left. He could tell she wasn't completely healed yet. A week earlier, she'd come into work with dark circles back under her eyes.

Really, it would be easy to convince himself that she would never be ready and that using another woman to make himself forget was a good idea. Somehow he doubted that would make the dull ache in his chest any better, though.

He didn't plan on giving up anytime soon. If one thing could be said about Danny Messer, it was that he was a stubborn son of a bitch, and he usually got what—and who—he wanted.

Frankly, he liked the way he felt when things were going well with Lindsay. It was new, the sweet almost giddy feeling he got when they accidentally brushed against each other in the lab. He liked it, and he wanted more of it.

So, while his body might be, he wasn't even tempted to give up on her.

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A.N. The next chapter will be up in a day or so. I wasn't able to give this one as much editing as Can't Go Home Again, so I'm sorry if there are any glaring errors. Let me know if you find one and I'll fix it!


	2. Chapter 2

A.N. Still don't own anything.

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Lindsay carefully peeled the trace off the shirt and held the tape up to the light. It was reflective, just as she'd thought. "Adam," she called, sticking the tape to its backing.

Adam glanced at her and excused himself from the conversation he was having with one of the other lab techs. Crossing the room, he looked at her quizzically. "What's up, Lindsay?"

"Could you run this?"

"Sure." He studied it as he took it from her. "Any bets?"

She smirked at him. "I'm gonna go with glitter glue."

"What?" he asked laughing.

"Glue with glitter in it. Kids use it all the time for art projects."

"Cleverly named stuff." Adam looked back at the trace, turning it slightly from side to side. "It does reflect light," he murmured, already wandering away.

"Thanks, Adam," she called to his back.

He muttered something, but was too far away for her to make it out and his attention definitely wasn't on her anyway. Hiding a smile, Lindsay began packing the shirt away. She'd run every possible test on it and the only thing she'd come up with was that reflective trace. Why was evidence so finicky?

Her phone vibrated in her pocket as she put the lid back on the evidence box, and she stripped her gloves to pull it out. When she saw Mac's name on her screen, she chewed her lip for a second before flipping the phone open.

"Hey Mac," she answered, trying to hide the nervous flutter in her voice.

"Probation's over, Lindsay. Get down to 125 Richmond."

"Got it," she said, jotting the number down with a shaking hand. "Wait. Where is that?"

"Outskirts of Queens," Mac explained. She could hear Danny talking to someone in the background and his voice was echoing, like they were in a warehouse or another cavernous room. "Get here as fast as you can. And bring extra swabs."

Lindsay closed the phone and leapt into motion. Hurrying towards Adam, she was already pulling off her lab coat. "Hey, could you give those results to Stella when you're done? I gotta go."

"Everything okay?" he asked as she practically sprinted for the door.

Turning, she pushed open the door with her back. "Everything's great."

She grinned and almost laughed at Adam's baffled expression. She couldn't blame him. She'd been trudging around the lab with a dismal attitude for the past month and a half. Happy Lindsay was no longer a familiar sight for Adam.

The trip to Queens was torturous. Part of her kept thinking that if she didn't get there soon enough, Mac would call in someone else and put her back on probation indefinitely. Her leg bounced spastically while she wove—slow as molasses—through the traffic.

Finally, she was at the address and she frowned at the warehouse. It was what she'd expected, but there was a large horse trailer out in front. Who would have a horse in Queens?

She flashed her badge at the cops standing guard at the crime scene tape and ducked under as they lifted it. Moving through the open door, she blinked in surprise. The inside of the warehouse looked like that of any vet's office. Cages lined one wall and there was a glass-walled room off to her right that looked like an operating room.

Through the large sliding door on the far wall, she saw Danny lift his camera and snap off a photo then disappear as he stepped out of the frame of the doorway. Gripping her kit more tightly, she crossed the room, barely glancing at the dogs and cats in the cages to her left.

When she got to the doorway, she ground to a halt. "What the—"

Danny—taking pictures of the lacerations on the horse's side—glanced over his shoulder at her, but Mac didn't even look up from the hoof he was currently swabbing. "Glove up," he told her.

Setting her kit down, she pulled on a pair of gloves and stepped carefully up to the horse. Danny moved behind her, almost brushing her back, and murmured in her ear, "I thought you'd feel right at home."

"Thanks for thinking of me," Lindsay muttered, still marveling over the horse's presence in what seemed to be a cavernous holding room.

"Don't mention it."

Shaking her head, she waited as Mac came back around the horse. "Could you take a few swabs of her mouth, please?"

"Sure." Grabbing a handful of swabs, Lindsay moved to hold the mare's head, getting a first look at her face. Lindsay stared at the mare for a moment, taking in the pale birthmarks on the brown of her face.

"Something wrong?" Mac asked, noticing her frozen expression.

It took a moment to get her voice to work. "This is Lady Fingers."

"Excuse me?" Mac stepped up next to her and eyed the mare warily.

"That's her name. Because of these," Lindsay explained, pointing out the long, narrow marks on either cheek.

Danny came up on her other side. "How do you know that?"

"She just won the Derby and the Preakness."

"As in Kentucky Derby?" Mac asked evenly.

When she nodded, Mac and Danny shifted uneasily. "How did a horse who just won a race in Kentucky get to an alley in New York?" Danny asked Mac.

"Maryland," Lindsay corrected. "The Preakness is in Maryland. And the Belmont—"

"The what-ness?" Danny interrupted, shaking his head.

Lady Fingers fidgeted anxiously, and Lindsay murmured to her softly before finally answering Danny's question. "The Preakness. It's the second race in the Triple Crown. The Belmont Stakes is the third, and it's held in Elmont. Lady Fingers here has a shot at winning."

"The Triple Crown?" Danny looked over Lindsay's head at Mac. "Are you getting any of this?"

Mac was quiet for a minute. "First we finish processing. Then we get Lady Fingers somewhere safe. If she's as famous as you say, maybe she was the intended target."

Lindsay smirked when Danny stared after Mac as he stepped away and flipped open his cell. Mac was too far away to be audible, so Danny circled the horse and raised the camera again.

"All Montana girls know this much about horse racing?" he asked, his eyes sliding to her and then back to Lady's side.

Lindsay shot him a smile. "Not a huge sport in Montana. I only know about it because of Connor."

Why did she even open her mouth sometimes? Danny's face was calm, but noticeably cooler and she wanted to sigh. Carefully, she swabbed the inside of Lady's lips.

"He a betting man?"

Lindsay blinked, swab frozen in her hand. There was no rancor in Danny's voice, but he'd met Connor. Did he really think Mr. Do No Evil frequented the tracks with a nasty gambling habit?

"No, his family raises race horses," Lindsay explained.

"So you spent a lot of time with them?"

"Their thoroughbreds?" she asked in surprise. "No, that farm isn't in Montana. It's somewhere out here, actually."

"Somewhere?" Danny repeated casually as he crouched to document the horse's front legs.

Shrugging, Lindsay swabbed along Lady's tongue. The horse danced in annoyance. "Sorry," she murmured to the mare, gently patting her cheek. "Connor didn't play a big role in the training, so he didn't visit the farm much, and I didn't pay all that much attention when he talked about it."

Danny grunted and snapped another picture. "All right, I got every bit of this horse that's photographable."

Mac walked back up to them. "Let's finish up. They're on their way to pick up the horse."

Danny set down his camera while Lindsay brushed a swab across Lady's front teeth. The back would be a bit trickier.

"Danny, help me get these hooves printed," Mac said, leaning back down to touch Lady's back leg. She lifted it agreeably and Danny rolled the ink over it.

When they were done, Lindsay gave Lady a soothing pat on the cheek, which made the horse visibly relax after all the strenuous attention she'd been receiving. Mac eyed her as they all stripped off their gloves and carefully packed away the evidence they'd collected.

"You're good with horses," he commented.

She turned her head with a confused smile. "I grew up around them."

Danny met her eyes questioningly as Mac bent down to pick up his kit, but she could only shrug. Mac already knew that, so why was he asking? He didn't say anything else, leading Danny and Lindsay back out of the warehouse and sending them on ahead to the trucks when a man stepped out of the shadows to speak to him.

"Who's that?" Lindsay asked, glancing back.

"The vet who owns this place. Apparently, Mac's worked with him before," Danny explained, opening the back of the SUV and packing his kit in.

Lindsay caught his underlying meaning. "You've never seen him?"

Taking her kit out of her hands, Danny's gaze drifted up to hers and to the men again before he turned to secure the evidence. He didn't answer. The look he'd given her was enough.

"So, where exactly did you find this horse?" she asked, hands naturally finding her hips.

Danny's body relaxed and he closed the door, turning to perch himself on the back bumper with a smirk. "In an alley off Hudson. The DB was lying in front of the horse and she had her back to the wall of the alley. Don't know why she didn't run away. She just stood there, even when the guy who found 'em both walked into the alley."

"Any id on the body yet?"

"Nah. Just sent the body with the ME an hour ago. We got the horse out first and Hawkes is with the crime scene."

"Mac chose to stay with the horse?" Surprise had her glancing back at her boss again.

"Not the first time," Danny said calmly. When she frowned at him, he just smiled smugly and crossed his arms over his chest.

Shaking her head, she turned to walk to the other SUV. "I'll see you back at the lab," she said over her shoulder, hearing him chuckle as she pulled open the door.

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"Okay, here's what we got off the body," Mac said as the team gathered in the reconstruction room. "A couple trace samples still being processed and these two scraps of paper."

Everyone pressed a little closer as Mac slid the more crumpled looking piece of paper to the middle of the table. "It's a list," Stella murmured, trying to read it upside down. "Lady Fingers, Tricky Nick, and Gung Ho Charlie."

"Those horse names?" Danny asked, glancing sideways at Lindsay.

"It's a trifecta."

Everyone turned to look at her, and she leaned closer to the scrap. "I'd have to check, but all three of these horses probably ran in the Derby and Preakness."

"A trifecta," Mac repeated, gaze locked on her face.

"It's a type of bet. You pick which horses will place first, second and third and the order they'll place in," she explained, ticking off on her fingers.

"Sounds difficult."

"Try nearly impossible," Lindsay scoffed, not looking up from the paper. "This looks like a receipt for the bet, but the track name's been torn off the stub. It looks worn," she added on a murmur.

"Could this be for the Belmont?" Mac asked, eyeing her.

Lindsay frowned. "I don't know. I don't know when the betting starts for a race. It might have started as early as the day the Preakness ended."

"So this bet could have been placed weeks ago," Mac surmised, turning his gaze back to the ticket. "Adam, could you pull up the order of the winning horses at the Derby and Preakness?"

The younger man nodded, typing quickly on the computer. "Here we go," he said a second later, displaying the list on the wall screen.

"First was Lady Fingers, second Tricky Nick—"

"Third Gung Ho Charlie," Mac interrupted Stella.

"So this was a solid bet, then," Stella said, looking excited at the discovery.

Lindsay shook her head; something was bothering her. "It's a strange bet to make on the Belmont, though."

"Why's that?" Danny asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She looked up to meet his eye. "The odds on winning a trifecta bet at a Triple Crown race would be astronomical. So why bet on Lady Fingers?"

"Well, everyone knows she's going to win," Stella pointed out.

"Exactly," Lindsay said. "These horses took the top three places at both the Derby and the Preakness. If you placed this bet, your odds would be even money at the Belmont."

"So why bother?" Stella asked, her eyes turning to Mac, who shook his head.

In the ensuing silence, Lindsay felt her body tense as a thought occurred to her. "What if…"

Turning to her, Mac tilted his head. "Go on."

"It might be nothing but…what if this wasn't a bet for the Belmont?" Her eyes flicked nervously through the other pairs in the room before landing back on his. "What if it was for the Derby?"

"And he won," Mac said, straightening.

"God, that would be…" Lindsay shook her head, trying to calculate. "That could have been millions. Lady Fingers was never expected to win. She was the underdog."

"But why wouldn't the guy have cashed it?" Danny asked, bracing his arms with his hands against the table. "Why keep it in his pocket?"

Lindsay shook her head. "I don't know."

"What about this other one?" Mac asked, pointing to the second ticket stub. It had a serial number scribbled at the top in nearly incomprehensible chicken scratch.

Lindsay shrugged. "Another trifecta, but it's not from a track, I don't think."

"So, two trifecta bets. One predicts the exact order and the other has a mystery horse in third."

"No, he took Lady Fingers off," Lindsay murmured, her eyes darting between the two scraps then up to the wall screen.

Mac turned to her again. "What?"

"Look," she said, pulling the scraps next to each other. "They're different paper samples, right? So, two different bets, placed with two different people. This one's worn, this one's crisp. The one without Lady Fingers is a new bet. The guy bumped up the other two horses and put another horse in third. The one that came in fourth at the Preakness," she added, pointing up at the screen.

Stella rubbed her temple. "But why would he bet against Lady Fingers? She's slated to win."

"Maybe he knew Lady Fingers wasn't going to win the Belmont," Mac said seriously, staring into a middle distance.

"Still no id on the body?" Danny asked, looking at Stella.

"Hawkes ran the prints, but no hits in AFIS."

"Danny, Lindsay, I want you to go talk to Lady Fingers's owner, J.J. McCullen. He's on his way to the precinct now," Mac told him, seeming to shake himself out of his thoughts.

Lindsay raised her eyebrow. "How'd you get him to agree to that?"

"Told him I wouldn't give him his horse back until the investigation was over. He seems to want to speed things up a bit," Mac answered with a smirk.

"With less than a week til the Belmont? Probably in his best interests," Lindsay agreed, taking one last look at the scraps before turning to Danny.

"You ready, Montana?" he asked, adjusting his glasses. She nodded and they both stripped their gloves and lab coats off.

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"Our DB's name is Russel Styles. He's been McCullen's jockey for the past five years," Danny told Mac as they walked down the hallway.

Mac nodded. "He have any idea who would want Styles dead?"

Shrugging, Danny flipped open his notebook. "Said the guy pretty much kept to himself. No enemies that McCullen knew about."

"Did McCullen know anything about his jockey's gambling habit?"

"He didn't seem to. He was surprised when we mentioned it, but pretty calm. Said it was pretty common. He did mention, however, that Styles loved Lady Fingers, and he couldn't imagine the guy would bet against her."

"Keep digging," Mac said as they rounded the corner. Danny nodded and started to turn away. "Danny."

Stopping abruptly, he moved back to Mac's side with a concerned expression. Mac's tone was definitely fishy. "What's up?"

Mac stepped closer, and Danny felt his eyes slide around the hallway, automatically looking for eavesdroppers. "How's Lindsay doing?"

Danny felt his muscles freeze. He knew what Mac was asking; he wanted to know if she was up to handling caseloads. "She's doing fine."

"Good." Mac clapped his back as he walked away. "Keep me posted on the background check."

"Will do," Danny muttered, head down as he strode away.

For half a second, he'd wanted to tell Mac about the circles under Lindsay's eyes and what they had to mean. But it wasn't his place, and just thinking about doing it made him feel uncomfortable, like he'd betrayed her somehow.

"Danny."

Glancing up, he found Stella standing in front of him. "What's up?"

"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

He tried to even out his expression. "Yeah, yeah. You got something?"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment then turned to walk down the hallway. "Guess who owed money at several tracks?"

"Our friend Styles?"

"Bingo."

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Lindsay shook her head. "I really don't think McCullen had anything to do with it."

"He had motive," Danny argued. "His jockey was going to sabotage his chance at five million dollars in prize money."

"Then why leave the horse at the scene? And why do such a crappy job of covering your tracks? McCullen easily has millions in the bank. Why the do it yourself job?"

"What? You don't think McCullen did it because he would have hired a hit on the guy?" His tone was wry and he felt Lindsay tensing in anger next to him, but she kept her tone calm.

"My point is, if he was trying to protect his chances of winning the Triple Crown, why leave the horse at the scene of the crime?"

Danny shrugged. "Maybe he thought it would run home."

"Horses aren't dogs, Danny. They don't remember where their barn is when they're hundreds of miles from home."

"I'm just saying, we can't rule out McCullen because the guy left the horse behind."

"I'm just saying this isn't the equine version of Homeward Bound," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

He blinked at her. "You watched that?"

Dropping her head in her hands, she took a minute to get her temper back under control. She had to get out of here. Danny had been on edge all day and it was starting to color every word that passed between them. The tension that had been building was affecting her brain—probably just due to her weariness—but it was making working with him difficult.

When she raised her head, she sighed and looked at her watch. "Let's go home, get some sleep and come back to it fresh tomorrow."

"We're not done." There was a brittleness to Danny's voice that hadn't been there before the silence, and Lindsay felt herself jerk in surprise.

"We can't do anything else until we run down some of these leads, Danny. It's almost midnight, none of the tracks are open right now," she pointed out, her face and tone carefully neutral.

Seeing the frustration in his face, she wanted to sigh again. Obviously the tension was getting to him, too. She wished fervently that she could think of a way to disarm the moment, but her mind was blank.

Some of what she was feeling must have shown on her face because his gaze dropped and he suddenly just looked exhausted. "See you in the morning, Lindsay," he said, swiveling his chair to face the computer.

Nodding, she started gathering her things, watching him as she slid her jacket on. "What about you?" she asked when he made no move to get up.

"I'm gonna work some more."

She bit her tongue before asking him what he thought he was going to work on. All their leads were useless until the tracks opened in the morning. Stifling another sigh, she turned to go. She wanted to tell him to get some rest, but she didn't have the right and she knew he'd just shut down more if she pressed the issue.

"Good night, Danny." Her voice was no more than a murmur.

As she walked down the hallway, the vaguely sore feeling in her chest grew until a heaviness settled there, making it hard to breathe. At the elevator, she pushed the button several times, none too gently.

Since her return to New York, the situation with Danny had felt more awkward than ever and she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't slept in at least a week; the dreams would come back every time she closed her eyes.

The strange thing, considering the tension building between them, was that she never really felt calm until Danny was near her. She couldn't quite erase the images from the nightmares until she saw him, alive, breathing, not bleeding.

Things had been going so well in Montana. She felt as though the barrier between them had fallen almost completely. But, now, back in New York, in the harsh light of reality, those walls were rising again, each day cementing a new brick.

She hated it.

And she knew it was mostly her fault, that he'd only put the space between them because she'd asked him to, but what she'd told Danny was true; she needed to be alone to sort out the residual fall-out from all of the turmoil she'd felt in the last ten years. If she let Danny do that for her—and she knew she only had to say the words—she wasn't sure she'd ever be strong enough on her own.

She never meant to close him out completely.

Rubbing her forehead, Lindsay pushed out the doors of the precinct and stopped just outside. Her feet wouldn't move towards the subway, but she didn't want to go back inside, either. She was stuck.

Someone pushed the door open behind her, and she whirled, heart fluttering in the vicinity of her throat. Detective Angell paused as she saw Lindsay standing there and her eyebrows twitched a little.

Lindsay tried to keep the disappointment off her face. "Hi," she said in greeting.

The other woman nodded and smiled politely. She was even more beautiful up close, and Lindsay could feel her own frumpiness level skyrocketing. Determined not to feel threatened by this woman's beauty, Lindsay stepped forward.

"I don't think we've met yet." She smiled widely. "I'm Lindsay Monroe, part of Mac's team."

"I know who you are." The words were a surprise, but Angell smiled back at her. "Jennifer Angell. Detective," she added, pointing at the building beside them.

The woman was friendly enough, but Lindsay was getting a strange vibe of reservation coming from her. Ignoring it, Lindsay nodded and shook the woman's hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"Same."

They stood awkwardly for a moment then Angell backed away. "Well, good night."

"Night."

Angell started to walk away, but stopped when she glanced over her shoulder. Lindsay looked at her curiously as the other woman came back up to her. "Look," the detective said. "Are you waiting for Messer? Cuz I saw him head out the other door with Flack right before I left."

"Oh," Lindsay said, startled. "No, I'm not waiting. I—" She paused. "I'm not sure what I'm still doing here, honestly. But thank you."

Finally, her feet started working again and Lindsay hurriedly set off for the subway entrance. She could feel Angell's eyes on her back and a bit of resentment flared inside her. Did everyone know about she and Danny? Really? Every single detective and officer they worked with?

And if Angell knew about Lindsay and Danny's…whatever they had, why the hell was she hitting on him so blatantly?

As she slid through the closing doors of the subway car, Lindsay sighed. It wasn't fair to be mad about that. She'd only seen Angell hit on Danny once, nearly two weeks ago. And Danny flirted with everyone; sometimes it seemed like it was the only way he knew how to interact with women. As much as she hated the fact, it was none of her business.

It was late enough that the car was nearly empty and she slid into a seat gratefully. As the car jerked forward, Lindsay squeezed her eyes shut, trying to put any thoughts of Danny and other women out of her mind. He was free to do whatever he wanted. Whoever he wanted for that matter.

But it still made her chest ache.

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A.N. Next chapter will be up in a couple of days!


	3. Chapter 3

A.N. Sorry the updates have been taking so long. I've been trying to write the end and edit the beginning simultaneously and it resulted in great confusion. Hopefully, I'll be able to start posting faster after this chapter. Oh, yeah, still don't own anything.

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"You're kidding me," Danny said to the bookie, arms crossed over his chest. "You don't take bets from Styles?"

"He's blackballed," Al repeated, looking irritable.

"Why's that?" Lindsay asked. Her disdainful tone made Danny glance at her. Were they playing good cop bad cop again?

"It's what happens when you don't pay your bills, sweetheart."

"Don't talk to her like that," Danny said calmly, but he stepped a little closer to Lindsay, knowing she was about to blow. "So if he didn't make the bet with you, who could he have made it with?"

Al laughed. "Come out here on racing day, the place is littered with independents. You really think I keep track of those scum?"

"Your track, your clientele. Yeah, I think you're keeping tabs on 'em."

Danny's smirk made the guy deflate. "I seen Styles talkin to a guy, bad rep. Takes bets, but doesn't necessarily pay out, you know?"

"Need a name, man."

"Aw, come on." Al had a nervous look in his eye, and Danny glanced around to see if anyone else was close enough to hear the conversation. Place was empty.

"Name," Lindsay insisted stonily.

"Otis Meyers," Al said defeatedly. "Look, don't tell nobody I told you."

"Yeah, yeah. Our lips are sealed. Have a great day," Danny added sarcastically as Al scurried back inside the stadium. "What a looney toon."

"Something's bugging me," Lindsay murmured as they walked back to the SUV.

"Yeah, what's that?"

She waited until they'd both climbed in and were buckling their seatbelts before she spoke again. "We're assuming he was killed over one of his bets, right?"

"Right," Danny agreed carefully, turning the key in the ignition.

"And so we're assuming he was murdered by the person he owed money to."

Danny glanced at her as he looked over his shoulder to back out of the space. "Yeah? So?"

"So how would a bookie get a hold of Lady Fingers?" she asked, absently toying with her seatbelt as Danny pulled out onto the highway. "He would have to know when and on what route Lady Fingers was being transported not to mention that Styles was traveling with her."

"Is that so hard to find out?" Danny merged onto the freeway.

"I don't know. You'd think with a horse worth that much…" She stared out the window for a moment. "But it's weird to have the jockey traveling with the horse, right?"

Danny snorted. "You're asking me?"

A slight smile appeared on her face. "Sorry, city boy."

His stomach flipped at the nickname. "Maybe we should talk to McCullen again."

"Yeah," she murmured.

The case didn't seem to be what was bothering her recently, which eased his mind a little. Mac seemed to have backed off his hawk-like watch, as well, since he'd spoken to Danny. He wasn't sure that Lindsay had noticed, though.

Mac had kept her out of the field for almost three weeks after her psych eval, something that had made Danny nervous. Did she not get the green light from the doc? If not, what exactly had she said in there?

They were silent as they made the trip through Long Island and across the Williamsburg Bridge.

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Flack consulted his notebook then nodded at the two of them. "This is the place," he insisted.

"Does this look like a bookie's building to you?" Lindsay murmured to Danny as they followed Flack up the steps.

Taking in the brass knocker shaped like a lion's head, Danny shrugged. "You said he was taking high stakes bets. He's gotta have something to back it up right?"

"But Al said Meyers doesn't pay out," Lindsay said quietly as Flack rapped smartly on the door. Danny shrugged again and didn't answer, his eyes running over the building.

The man who answered the door definitely looked like he belonged at a horse race, with the classic ascot and—Lindsay blinked disbelievingly—pipe. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Otis Meyers?"

"No, you're looking for my son," he said cordially, his face easy, but his eyes hard. "May I ask whose calling on him?"

"NYPD," Flack responded, holding up his badge. Danny and Lindsay followed suit. "I'm Detective Flack and these are detectives Messer and Monroe. We'd like to speak to your son if we may."

"In regards to?"

"Murder."

The word made Meyers freeze for a moment then he relaxed and waved them inside, his eyes glancing around the street behind them for witnesses. Flack led the way in with Danny and Lindsay close behind.

"Is your son home?"

"No, he's not," Meyers said stiffly, shutting and locking the door. With that, he moved past them out of the foyer and into a parlor on the right. Stepping in after him, Lindsay blinked at the walls lined with books, the wingback chairs and the blazing fire in the grate.

Did this guy think he was Sherlock Holmes?

"Do you know where he might be?" Danny asked, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

The man's face darkened and he started to answer, but Lindsay cut him off. "We just need to ask him some questions."

"About what? A murder? My son had nothing to do with that," Meyers said haughtily, setting his pipe on the mantle.

"Sir, he was one of the last people to see our victim alive. We need to find out what he knows."

Meyers stared them down. At a stalemate, they faced off for long silent moments. Finally, Flack stirred. "Fine. We'll do it the hard way. I'll call the judge for the warrant," he told Danny and Lindsay, disappearing down the hallway.

"We'll wait." Danny settled himself against the wall and smiled dangerously at the man who was suddenly looking quite worried. "How ya doing?"

Lindsay hid a laugh behind a cough.

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"So, you like to take bets no one else'll touch," Danny said, leaning one hip against the table.

Otis Meyers slouched in his chair with a very sour expression. "You ain't got nothing on me."

They all paused. "Copper?" Lindsay asked.

The bookie raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. It's just…that was so cliché." Lindsay felt Danny shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Look," Danny said when he'd managed to calm down. "We know you took a bet from Styles right before he died." He dropped a picture of the ticket they'd found on the table.

"That don't got my name on it."

"You do realize you're from the Upper East side, right?" Flack asked from behind them.

Otis glared at him while Danny came around the table and slid the picture closer. "Remember that handwriting sample we took a couple of hours ago?" He tapped the chicken scratch at the top of the ticket. "We matched it to this bet, placed with you, that implies Lady Fingers was out of the running. Now, why would Styles—Lady Fingers's jockey—make that bet?"

Meyers shrugged. "How should I know?"

"See, we think you two had a plan," Lindsay continued Danny's story blithely as Meyers eyed her warily. "Get the winning horse out of the way and split the profits from the bets."

Looking disgusted, Meyers shook his head. "No way would I share my profits with him."

"So you did know him," Danny said calmly, straightening from where he'd been leaning over the other man.

"Sure, I knew him. Guy like that, so free with money. Everybody knew him."

"I think it was a plan gone wrong," Danny offered, walking around the table to stand next to Lindsay's chair. "You were just s'posed to beat him up a bit, so when you took the horse, it looked like he put up a fight."

Meyers's eyes flickered and he started to sweat as Danny continued. "What happened? He ask for more of the profits? You wanted to teach him a lesson?"

Meyers licked his lips and shook his head. "I don't know what you're—"

"So you hit him a little harder and a little longer than you'd planned," Danny finished, placing a hand on the back of Lindsay's chair. She swallowed convulsively when he brushed against her shoulder as he leaned his weight forward.

"When I left, he was alive," Meyers shrieked, suddenly losing his cool.

"Then why didn't you take the horse, Otis?" Lindsay asked calmly as the man before them broke down, babbling everything.

Lindsay glanced up and caught Danny's eye. Flack stepped forward with a pad and a pen. "Mr. Meyers, why don't you write all this down for us?"

Standing, Lindsay followed Danny from the room. "That was almost disappointing," he said, wandering down the hall towards the elevators.

"The spoiled ones are always the easiest to crack."

Danny snorted. "But the hardest to find. I can't believe it took almost two days to get that guy in here."

Reaching up, Lindsay kneaded the muscle in one of her shoulders. "It feels like I haven't slept in a week," she moaned, locking her knees so she wouldn't collapse as they came to a stop in front of the elevator bank.

"I can finish the paperwork. You head on home."

Surprised, Lindsay glanced over at him, but Danny wasn't looking at her. His eyes were focused on the small numbers at the top of the elevator. "Thanks, but I'm not off shift yet. Still have four hours."

The doors swung open and they both stepped to the side as a hoard of people poured out of the car. When they finally stepped inside, they were the only ones in as the doors slid shut again. Reaching over, Danny jabbed the button for the thirty-fifth floor.

"Besides, aren't you coming off a double?" she asked, tucking the hair behind her ear as she looked at him. "Shouldn't I be the one offering to do your paperwork?"

"Are you?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Rolling her eyes, she laughed and leaned back against the side of the car, still facing him. She let her lids fall shut, wondering if Mac would send them on a new case or if she had a chance of getting through this day unscathed.

"Montana?"

Her eyes flew open at the nickname. It hadn't exactly been appearing very often recently. "Yeah?"

"How are you sleepin?" he asked, his eyes sharp as they searched hers, his face impassive.

Why did he have to be so smart? "Not very well," she answered honestly, her eyes refusing to leave his.

"Why's that?"

"Dreams." The stoic expression on his face softened to worry. "They haven't stopped for some reason," she told him, deciding not to mention his starring and disturbing role in them.

He stepped closer to her and she bit her lip. The urge to grab him and just hold on was overwhelming. "You need someone to talk to, you call me."

"Danny—"

"Anytime," he stressed, bending down to look her in the eye.

Sliding her eyes shut, she nodded. "Thanks," she whispered. Her lids flew up again as she felt his fingers brush against her cheek.

He smiled softly. "You're welcome."

The elevator came to a stop and the doors dinged. Lindsay expected him to pull away, but he didn't until the last possible moment, his eyes locked on hers. When anyone could see inside if they were standing near the doors, he dropped his hand and stepped back.

She followed him from the elevator in a bit of a daze. He paused to let her catch up, smiling down at her carelessly. Involuntarily, she smiled back. His smile had that sort of effect.

"Messer."

Lindsay turned when he did, stopped when he did, and immediately felt awkward. Angell was sashaying down the hallway, Stella waving goodbye to her as Adam pulled her inside a lab. Danny waited, folding his arms across his chest.

Unsure what to do, Lindsay hesitated then smiled politely at Angell—who smiled back—and continued down the hall to the office she shared with Danny. She didn't want to hear what they were saying, so she pulled the door closed behind her and hurriedly grabbed the paperwork for the case.

She didn't want to see them flirting any more than she wanted to hear it, but after a moment, she raised her head and glanced over her shoulder. They were still standing there, chatting about something that had Angell smiling widely—did she use bleach or something?—and Danny smirking.

She'd finished three pages of the report before Danny opened the door behind her. She barely controlled a start when he tossed the folder he'd been holding down on the pile on his desk.

"You could've waited for me to start," he said with a grin, pulling his chair across from hers.

She didn't look up. "I just want to get it done and get out of here."

His smile wavered before collapsing into a confused frown. "You okay?"

At that, she did glance up, trying to look innocently confused. "Yeah. Why?"

Shrugging, he picked up one of the pages she hadn't started yet. They were quiet for a few moments. Clearing his throat, Danny kept his eyes on the page in front of him as he asked quietly, "A few of us are going to Sullivan's tonight. You wanna come?"

Lindsay bit her lip. She wanted to say yes, she really did, but she was exhausted. And she didn't want to watch Angell hanging all over Danny for the entire night. "Thanks, but I really am tired. I rented a movie a few nights ago that I never watched. I think I'll just head home and do that."

"What movie?"

Surprised, Lindsay furrowed her forehead at him, but he still didn't look up from the paper. "I think it was _Wedding Crashers_."

"You've never seen that?" he asked, shock lighting his eyes as he raised his head.

Lindsay stifled a laugh. "Don't look so scandalized. I don't watch movies very often."

"Oh, Monroe. You don't know what you've been missing." His amused gaze locked with hers and they smiled at each other.

"You're a big fan, huh?" she asked, dropping her head back down.

"It's hilarious. You'll see," he promised, dramatically raising a finger in the air.

Sometimes she wondered how he did it, made her feel completely relaxed even on her worst days; other times, she told herself to just be thankful he could. For a second, she thought about inviting him to watch with her, even went so far as to open her mouth, only to snap it shut when he looked up at her.

She dropped her head down, furiously filling in the report. For just a moment, she'd forgotten he already had plans.

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She clicked her tongue softly, trying not to startle the horse as she stepped into the room. It had to be weird for Lady Fingers—almost as strange as it was for the precinct—to be locked in a lab rather than a stall. Hay had been spread across the floor for the horse, but Lindsay was pretty sure Lady Fingers hadn't slept since she'd been moved from the vet's office.

At the sight of Lindsay sliding the door shut behind her, Lady Fingers snorted softly and stepped forward to meet her. Lindsay smiled up at her and stroked her nose, eyes checking the cuts the horse had sustained during the attack. The last few days had given them time to heal; they'd hardly been more than scratches anyway. But she was fairly certain Lady wouldn't be taking part in the Belmont.

Her smile turned sad as she met the horse's eyes. "Strange how things change so suddenly, isn't it?"

The horse snorted again and danced a little bit in place. Lindsay snickered. "Sorry, honey. This is as good as it's gonna get until McCullen can get you out of here."

The door to the lab slid open behind her, but Lindsay didn't turn to see who it was. Lady stiffened under her fingers and Lindsay whispered soothing words.

"Thought I might find you here," Mac said, coming up next to her.

Lindsay glanced at him with a wry smile. "Why's that?"

He shrugged. "You've been a bit quiet since you got back."

It didn't sound like a question, but Lindsay knew what Mac was asking. "I still have some things to work out," she told him quietly.

"Lindsay—" Mac cut himself off. While he gathered his thoughts, he reached out and touched Lady's neck. Regally, the horse held her head a bit higher and let out a soft sound.

Amused, Lindsay shook her head. "You are such a flirt."

"Excuse me?" Mac turned incredulous eyes towards her.

"Oh, not you," she assured him, laughing. "The horse."

"Ah," he said mildly. "You did well on this case."

She shot him a look and hurriedly turned back to the horse, her voice quiet when she answered. "Thanks, Mac."

He nodded and patted the horse one last time. "You're gonna be fine, Lindsay Monroe."

She watched him walk out of the room and sighed. Leaning her head against Lady's warm neck, she stifled a groan. Everyone kept saying that, telling her she would be fine. But they'd been saying that for ten years. When was it supposed to get better?

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Stifling a yawn, Lindsay lifted the print and carefully packed it away before moving on to the next patch of desk. She'd barely managed to drag herself out of bed that morning, understandable considering Mac had called at close to four am. Why, oh why, did criminals strike so damn early?

She could feel Angell's eyes boring into the back of her head and she wondered for the umpteenth time that morning what she'd done to garner so much attention from the other woman. They'd exchanged civil, if not warm, greetings and each had focused on the tasks at hand.

Lindsay didn't see how it was possible that she was dragging this morning after staying at home with a movie when Angell had been out drinking with Danny. How could Angell not be hungover? It was the only decent thing the universe could do here.

Tired of the tension, Lindsay finally spoke. "Do you need something?" Looking up from her crouched position, she unerringly met Angell's eyes.

The other woman looked away, obviously embarrassed. "No, nothing. You almost done?"

Lindsay shrugged and didn't answer for a moment. "What'd the butler say?"

"Nothing of use, really. He said he locked up last night around ten, had a snack in the kitchen and was in bed by midnight. He found the body this morning around four when he got up for a glass of water and saw the light on."

"So, assuming he's telling the truth, we have a five hour window." She sighed and dusted the underside of the desk. "That narrows it down."

"Seriously," Angell groused, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Did he mention any visitors in the past couple of days?"

"A few. I got their names. One woman, Kyra Stilton, came back twice, but Mr. Matthews refused to see her."

"Oooh, scandalous."

Surprised laughter escaped Angell. Lindsay glanced at her with a wry smile and the tension eased a bit more.

"You finding any prints?" Angell asked after a pause.

"Not really," Lindsay admitted. "This place is kept pretty sterile."

"Damn."

"Well, it may not be so bad. I've found a couple and, given how frequently this place is cleaned, they're probably from last night."

"So I need to start rounding up suspects to print," Angell surmised.

Lindsay laughed at the relish in the detective's voice. "Go forth into battle," she intoned seriously and Angell chuckled.

"See you back at the lab."

The women glanced at each other and grinned as Angell turned to leave. Smiling to herself, Lindsay went back to finger printing.

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To all my reviewers: Sorry I didn't address each of you last time. For some reason, my review alert wasn't working, so I didn't even know I had any:-/

oddie33325: Hi! Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you liked the beginning and I hope you keep enjoying the story! The updates should start coming in faster now, I promise.

chili-peppers: You're back! I'm so glad you decided to try out the sequel.

specialfrog: Thanks for the reviews! I know, I want Lindsay to give in to him, too. How can she resist, right?

mercy4vr: Hi again! I'm glad you're giving the sequel a go. I hope it's measuring up to the first installment.

The Little Corinthian: Sex is very good therapy. I bet for Lindsay, Danny sex would be amazing therapy. There must be supply closets in the lab somewhere, right? (looks thoughtful)

Tenley: Thanks for reviewing again! I didn't like Angell very much until I started this story. I mean, I didn't dislike her, she just didn't do much for me, you know? But…I like my version of her. I don't know if that makes sense. Oh, and, yes, Connor will be back. :-p

berta101: Sorry I made you wait so long! I'm hoping to be able to update almost everyday for a while, but this story is much longer than the last one so it's taking a while to edit it. I'm glad you're still enjoying my little Lindsay universe!

scoob2222: Welcome back! I'm glad you liked the last story! I hope this one is living up to it.

Muzzy-Olorea: The relationship does seem a little strained, doesn't it? I couldn't figure out why it was coming out that way, at first, but it's starting to get better, I think. Thanks for reviewing! (And I do appreciate the constructive criticism, by the way. Thanks!)

RachelHeidi: They're being pretty damn slow, aren't they? I hope you liked this chapter as much as the last!

Quigon: They do need to talk. They're just both being very stubborn, I suppose.

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A.N. You know, I think I'll put up another chapter a little later today. I'm feeling very motivated on this story for some reason.


	4. Chapter 4

A.N. I've had a couple people tell me that the relationship between Danny and Lindsay seemed strained. So I thought it might be time to address the issue. Here are my thoughts on the subject:

I didn't want it to be as drastic as it apparently has been, but I didn't want them to be uber close either because Lindsay did turn him down again. So, I see Danny giving her lots of space to let her figure out her stuff, you know? Besides, it's kind of her turn to be the one to bridge the gap. (I mean, the guy DID fly all the way to Montana only to be turned down again.)

Also, I've been trying to focus on Lindsay coming back to work and I think I put too much emphasis on the cases.

Hopefully, this chapter and the last showed that Danny and Lindsay are getting back on the right track.

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"And what did Miss Stilton have to say?" Lindsay asked when she ran into Angell in the hall.

"Hello to you, too," Angell said. When Lindsay just shrugged, Angell blew out a frustrated breath. "Nothing. Oh, except that she has a convenient alibi for last night."

"Which is?" Lindsay asked warily.

"She was stripping in front of about three dozen men at a private bachelor's party."

Lindsay blinked. "Riley Matthews, the richest broker in Manhattan, was associating with a stripper?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," Angell argued. "The butler said he refused to see her."

Lindsay frowned. "Did she say why she was there?"

"Apparently, he owed her a little money."

"For what?" Lindsay murmured as they came to a stop in front of the elevators.

"Better question: how much?"

Taking in Angell's smug expression, Lindsay raised an eyebrow. "Okay, how much?"

"Half a million."

"Whoa," Lindsay drew out, holding up her hands. "Why in the world is Mr. Fancy Pants paying a stripper half a million dollars?"

"Maybe she's just that hot."

The women glanced at Flack as he stepped up next to them. Lindsay shook her head at him then turned back to Angell without responding. "She still downstairs?"

The doors slid open. "Waiting for you to swab away."

The women stepped inside, leaving Flack to follow, ignored and sullen. Lindsay stifled a smile as she shared a glance with Angell, who was also trying not to chuckle.

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Picking up her phone, Lindsay dialed and turned her eyes back to the paper she held. "Angell," she heard on the other end.

"It's Lindsay. You're not going to believe this," she said, her tone wry.

"After the day I've had, I doubt you could surprise me," Angell warned then sighed. "Okay. Spill."

Ignoring the odd warning, Lindsay cleared her throat. "Kyra Stilton is Riley Matthews's half sister."

There was a short pause on the line. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Well, Hawkes called a minute ago and told me the print you found at the scene belonged to one Thomas Draper, a private contracto. He was in the system for an assault case that never made it to court. Charges were dropped by the victim."

"Who?" Lindsay asked with a sense of dread."

"One Miss Kyra Stilton."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Unfortunately, no."

Hearing the lab door swing open and Angell's voice echo, Lindsay shut the phone and turned to face the detective. "And Stilton didn't mention him? At all?"

"No, not when I asked about boyfriends or enemies."

"So we've got a pair of siblings, one of whom owes the other half a million dollars and refuses to pay out. Why is set aside for now," Lindsay said with frustration. "And a man who attacked one sibling—"

"Two years ago," Angell interjected, leaning against the lab table.

"Two years ago?" Shaking her head incredulously, Lindsay continued. "And suddenly he appears in his victim's secret brother's apartment the night Mr. Matthews is murdered."

"That about sums it up." Angell watched Lindsay tamp down on her annoyance.

"Two years is a long time for a stalker not to do anything," Lindsay said, rubbing her temple.

"Maybe he's not a stalker."

Lindsay sighed and shrugged. "So, we find Thomas Draper."

Angell nodded and pulled out her phone, heading out of the lab. "I'm on it," she called over her shoulder.

Glancing around the lab, Lindsay wished she had something to do. This was the worst part of the job, the waiting. When there was no more evidence to run and all you could do was hope the human trail led to more.

Looking out of the glass of the walls, Lindsay caught a glimpse of Danny moving around in a lab down the hall from hers. She watched him for a few minutes as he leaned over the microscope, straightened, made a note, leaned again.

Before she could think better of it, she ripped off her gloves and strode down the hall towards his lab. He didn't look up as she came in.

She settled herself against the table behind him and watched him ignore her. Without bothering with a conventional greeting, she asked flippantly, "Why do men stalk women?"

"Why do women stalk men?" he countered, sliding his glasses back down onto the bridge of his nose.

She waited as he noted something on a paper, but he didn't turn to look at her. Frowning, she tried again.

"All right. Granted. Why would a man stalk a woman then attack a brother no one knew about who owed said woman half a million dollars?"

"I take it this isn't a hypothetical?" he murmured, writing on the side of an envelope.

"Nope, new case. With Angell and Hawkes," she added casually, trying to see if there was any sort of reaction.

But he just nodded and continued writing his notations on the envelope, which he then set aside and moved back to the microscope.

"Two years. That's the part that bugs me," she muttered, moving back to her original thought.

"What?" he asked.

"He beat her up, then didn't do anything for two years, and now his print suddenly shows up at her secret brother's apartment the night he dies?"

"Odd."

His voice was mild, but it grated on her already frustrated nerves. Danny usually bounced ideas with her when they were stuck. What was going on? Trying to calm herself, she changed the subject.

"Anyway. How was Sullivan's?"

He finally glanced over his shoulder at her. "Good. How was the movie?"

Tilting her head to the side, she met his eyes. "Hilarious."

His blank face, so disturbing to see on him, relaxed and his lips curled into a smile. "Told you."

She smiled self-consciously back at him. "Yeah, you did."

"You know," he said, after a moment, turning to close the folder on the table. "Movies are always better with company."

Her cheeks warmed. "Yeah, they are."

He looked at her sideways, a small grin on his face. "Yeah."

Suddenly, Lindsay's phone buzzed and she jumped, breaking the heated gaze between them. Danny chuckled as she fumbled the phone out of her pocket. "Monroe."

"Lindsay, we found Draper, but you're not going to like this."

"What now?"

"Draper was working on a country house for Matthews. He says he went over there to pick up a check for the new supplies they needed."

"Jesus," Lindsay muttered. "So we're supposed to believe there's no connection? It's all just a big coincidence?"

Danny was watching her as he packed evidence away. Sighing, Lindsay put a hand to her forehead as Angell answered.

"We're bringing him in for questions now. We should have him in interrogation in about twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes?"

"His office is ten blocks away," Angell explained dryly.

"This case is so strange," Lindsay told her.

Angell snorted. "Seriously."

Flipping the phone closed, Lindsay pinched the bridge of her nose. "Weirder than a horse being the primary witness?"

Looking at Danny, she pulled a face. "No. It's all just too convenient, you know?"

Danny crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his table. "Maybe it all is a big coincidence."

"If it is, we have to find a new suspect. Cuz no one else had prints in that room."

Danny shrugged. "Just don't discount the possibility."

Scowling, Lindsay nodded. Danny chuckled. "While you were gone, we had a case where a guy had people convinced he was the next Noah. Now that's weird."

Her heart skipped a beat at the easy reference. 'While you were gone' as if she'd taken a vacation to spend time with her mom. Forcing a smile, she reminded herself that he didn't mean to be flippant, that wasn't Danny. He'd been there for her despite how she'd treated him. But her breath was coming hot and fast, so she pulled out her phone and pretended to check the time.

"I should go," she said after she'd laughed appropriately.

He was eyeing her strangely. "Sure, sure."

"Bye," she said, keeping her eyes on the phone.

"See ya."

She knew she was being stupid, that Danny hadn't meant anything by it. She couldn't expect him to remember not to say certain things, have it at the forefront of his mind at all times. And she wanted him to forget, to treat her normally, like he used to.

Stopping back in her lab, she ripped off the white coat and hung it up. She was at a loss for what to do now. She'd normally find Danny when she had a few minutes to spare. But she didn't want to make it any more obvious than it already was that she'd just blown him off.

Sighing, she turned to go get a cup of coffee and nearly ran into Adam. "Oh, sorry," she said, trying to smile.

He laughed easily. "Don't worry about it. Where's the fire?"

"Coffee cart." They both laughed, and Lindsay jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "You game?"

"Sure." He shrugged. "I haven't reached my caffeine quota of the day."

It might have been paranoia, but she was sure she could feel Danny's eyes on her back as she and Adam headed for the elevator.

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"According to the butler, he didn't let Mr. Draper in that night," Angell told Lindsay as they walked down the hall towards interrogation. "He'd stopped by that afternoon, though."

"Really? Now isn't that interesting."

The women glanced at each other. "Good cop, bad cop?" Angell asked.

Raising an eyebrow, she eyed Thomas Draper through the blinds over the windows. "No, this needs more finesse."

Without another word, she pulled open the door to the room and strode inside, leaving Angell to follow. The man sitting at the table glanced up as they came in, his eyes lingering on Angell a little longer than strictly necessary. Lindsay resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Mr. Draper," Angell said, pointing to Lindsay. "This is Detective Monroe."

"How you doing?" he said, jerking his head towards her.

Lindsay smiled tightly and took the seat across from him. "I just need to ask you a few questions about Wednesday night, Mr. Draper."

"So I heard," he replied, shifting in his seat with a casual expression.

"Why were you there that night?" Lindsay asked, locking eyes with him.

He looked a little exasperated and turned to Angell. "Didn't we already go over this?"

"I don't remember her being there," Angell told him, leaning a hip against the table.

"Humor me," Lindsay added with a sweet smile.

Sighing, he raised a hand to scratch his eyebrow. "I'm building a country house for Matthews. Or I was. I was picking up a check."

Lindsay nodded. "And what time did you get there that night?"

"I don't know," he said, meeting her eyes directly. "Probably around nine."

"Little late for business." She didn't let his eyes drop.

"Construction isn't nine to five necessarily."

"We can understand that, right Monroe?" Angell asked dryly.

"Sure can. This isn't exactly a desk job." Turning back to Draper, Lindsay furrowed her forehead. "The thing that I don't understand—and feel free to explain it to me—is that Mr. Matthews's butler says you weren't there that night. You were there that afternoon."

His expression never changed. "He didn't have the check that afternoon. I came back."

Lindsay hummed in response. "I see." Turning a page in the folder in front of her, Lindsay studied the sheet for a moment. "One more thing."

Raising her head again, she stared at him for a moment. "Why are you covering for Kyra Stilton?"

Draper froze for a moment then relaxed again. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen Kyra in two years."

"Really?" Lindsay frowned and glanced at Angell. "That's strange. When we asked her about you, she was quite talkative."

Draper's eyes flicked between the two women. "Impossible. I haven't seen her in two years."

"Sure, sure. Okay," Lindsay said, flipping the folder closed. "So you won't mind giving us a DNA sample?"

His eyes narrowed. "I wanna call my lawyer."

Angell nodded. "We'll get right on that."

The detectives left in silence as the uniform in the room took Draper by the arm. Outside and halfway down the hall, Angell finally spoke. "How the hell could he be covering for Stilton? She has an airtight alibi."

"The club where she was stripping is three blocks from her brother's building," Lindsay said. "Gotta love Google maps."

"What now?"

Lindsay shrugged. "We wait for his lawyer. Let's get Stilton in here, too."

"I'm all over that," Angell said with enthusiasm. Noticing Lindsay eyeing her as they pushed into the bullpen of the precinct, she smiled a little. "She got on my nerves."

"Use the cuffs," Lindsay advised with a smirk.

"Oh yeah."

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"Thank God it's Friday," Angell groaned, rubbing her shoulder.

Lindsay glanced at her as they moved towards Mac's office. "Not working tomorrow?"

"Nope. You?"

"I'm on call."

Angell wrinkled her nose. "You at least have Sunday free?"

Shrugging, Lindsay rapped her knuckles on Mac's door. "If I don't get called in tomorrow."

"Rough," Angell murmured as Mac waved Lindsay in. She wandered a little bit down the hall as Lindsay stepped through the door.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, closing the file he had on his desk.

Lindsay offered him the report she and Hawkes had prepared before he took off for another scene. "We have two confessions from two murderers in cahoots. We can place both at the scene."

Mac smiled a little. "All right. Could you check on Stella before you head home? Hawkes went out with her, but they could be there awhile. They might need a hand."

"Sure, Mac." Pulling out her phone and heading for the door, she scrolled through the contacts to Stella's number, but Mac's voice stopped her from pressing send.

"Lindsay." Pausing, she looked at him questioningly. "How are you doing?"

She tried for a smile. "I'm all right."

"Not good?"

This time her smile was real. "Getting there," she promised before turning and walking out.

Angell fell into step beside her as Lindsay strode down the hall. "What's happening?"

"Checking on Stella's case," Lindsay murmured, ignoring the look Angell shot her. The phone rang in her ear several times before she picked up.

"Hey, Lindsay," Stella greeted her. She could hear noise in the background, but she could just barely make out Hawkes's voice, nothing distinct.

"Hey, Stel. Mac asked me to check on you guys. See if you need an extra hand."

"Your case all done?"

"Just wrapped it up. It practically has a bow on it."

"Well, we're all right out here. Almost done, actually. We could use some help with processing, though."

"I'll see you here, then."

When she flipped the phone shut, Angell was looking at her dryly. "Do you ever go home?"

Embarrassed, Lindsay waited a beat before answering. "They just need some help with the processing. Big case, I guess."

Suddenly, Flack was sprinting by them on his way to Mac's office. "Sullivan's, seven o'clock," he said, pointing at them as he passed.

Lindsay looked at Angell, who just looked back. When she glanced at where Flack had been to answer, he'd already turned the corner.

The women eyed each other warily. Where Flack went, so went Danny, which meant this would be an interesting outing.

Obviously trying to shake it off, Angell turned towards the elevators. "I'm going to go finish my paperwork. Try not to have too much fun up here."

"Shut up," Lindsay muttered good-naturedly.

"Geek," Angell tossed back over her shoulder on her way to the elevators.

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Kavi Leighanna: I kind of already addressed some of what you said up in the first A.N. I think if I'd posted the chapters in a more timely fashion, it wouldn't have seemed as if all the progress they'd made in Montana was suddenly moot. (Lindsay's still freaking out, I guess was my point? I don't know…I don't think it came across well.) Though, as I said above, I do see your point when reading these chapters without the context that's locked in my own head. Hopefully, the next few chapters will fix that.

scoob2222: Hehe, thanks again! I'm glad the story is still keeping you interested.

The Little Corinthian: They will be getting much closer in the next few chapters. Interpret that as you will.

Tenley: Because Lindsay is jealous. That's right, J-E-A-L-O-U-S. Ha! (clears throat) Sorry, that was a little mean to Lindsay. Progress is coming, I promise. As is more Angell-Lindsay action/adventure.

Lauren: Thanks for reviewing! Lindsay and Danny are slowly making progress, I promise.

Tiantian Wang: I think I mentioned this before to someone else, but at first I was pretty ambivalent towards Angell. I'm starting to like my version of her, though, so you'll be seeing a lot of her in this story. The cases are actually the hardest part of the writing for me; it's hard to make them interesting and not repetitive. (I taped the last episode and I have watched it three times now, AND forced my roommates to watch it with me…they squealed, too, even though they don't know the whole story. It was awesome.)

TBD: Thanks for giving up your lurker habits to review! I'm glad you've like the story so far. I hope you keep reading!

mercy4vr: I'm glad I'm conveying the emotions believably. It's hard to do without being flamboyant about it, and I worry if I'm being too subtle sometimes and overly dramatic at others. So thanks!

ReJo: Hi and thanks for the review! I hope you liked this last chapter and that you keep reading. : )

serenity2bliss: Thanks! I hope this chapter was as enjoyable. Another one'll be up later today, just have to edit it.

messermonroe: Oh, well, Angell's not going anywhere anytime soon. However, the next chapter somewhat addresses, or at least starts to address, the issues between them. I'm glad you're liking the story. I hope you keep reading!

CSIMel: I'm glad you like she and Angell together! I like them, too, so I've been trying to be convincing.

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A.N. So work got in the way last night, and I couldn't get a second post up until this morning. Hopefully the same thing won't happen tonight. Meh. I hate working on the weekend. :-p


	5. Chapter 5

A.N. Drama, drama, drama. I love it. Oh, and I don't own anything. Just thought I'd mention that.

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Lindsay was waiting for results from DNA when Angell stuck her head in the break room. She motioned to her watch. "Ten to seven. Should we head over?"

Lindsay felt the surprise on her face and ducked her head to hide it. Sliding from her chair, she crossed to the sink and dumped the rest of her coffee down the drain. "Sure, let me just grab my purse."

Angell followed silently as Lindsay made her way to the locker room. Passing Stella, Lindsay stopped and hurried to catch up with her boss. "Hey, Stel, I'll be back in—"

Stella waved her hand dismissively. "Go home, Lindsay. Thanks for your help, but we got it from here," the older woman told her, smiling.

"Thanks," Lindsay said with some relief. "Have a good night."

Stella was already moving away again and wiggled her fingers as a goodbye. "I'll meet you at the elevators," Angell muttered and Lindsay nodded as they scurried in different directions.

Grabbing her purse and jacket, Lindsay bit her lip. For some reason, she felt nervous about spending time with Angell. No, that wasn't it. She felt nervous about spending time with Angell around Danny. She'd seen the way the other woman flirted with him. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to jump him right there in the hallway.

Danny, being Danny, of course flirted back, but Lindsay didn't know what that meant. She was well aware of the fact that Danny flirted with every woman he came across. But Angell was so beautiful it was hard to imagine he wasn't interested at least on some basic level.

It didn't help that she'd seen one or two of the women he'd dated; tall, model-like brunettes. In other words, his type seemed to run exactly towards Angell.

Meeting up with Angell at the elevator, Lindsay was a little consoled by the fact that the other woman seemed as nervous as she was. They were silent again as Lindsay slid her arms into her jacket.

"So," Angell said, clearing her throat. "Why haven't I seen you at Sullivan's before?"

Shrugging, Lindsay fiddled with her purse. "I don't go out much. It's hard to make plans. Cases are constantly extending our shifts."

Angell nodded slightly as the doors slid open, and they stepped inside. "Mine, too."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Angell folded her arms across her chest. Silence settled between them, making the quiet ding of the elevator hitting each floor seem louder than an explosion.

"Okay, why is this so awkward?" Lindsay finally burst out.

"I have no idea," Angell sighed.

"Look," Lindsay said, after a pause. "This is about Danny, right?"

Angell shot her a glance but didn't answer. Swallowing, Lindsay tried again. "He and I aren't together. So I'm not standing in your way if you're…interested."

She hated that she felt like a teenager saying all of this. And Angell's silent raised eyebrow didn't help matters.

"I'm not exactly a fish wife," Lindsay told her as they finally exited the elevator. "I won't gut you for talking to him."

Angell was surprised into laughter. "You know, I didn't think I was going to like you."

Lindsay smiled confusedly. "Why's that?"

Shrugging, Angell opened the door to the precinct and let Lindsay go out first. "Because you're the reason Danny wouldn't give me a chance."

Lindsay blushed and shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Angell's smirk grew. "Right. Like you don't know he's holding out for you."

Wincing, Lindsay squeezed her eyes shut. "I didn't want him to."

"Why not?" Angell asked, genuine surprised coloring her voice. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

A breath of air, almost a laugh, escaped Lindsay as she fumbled with her buttons in the cold night. "I wouldn't call it love. We haven't even been on a date. It's a crush. A very serious crush," she mumbled, shaking her head ruefully.

Angell watched Lindsay tuck a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. "You're not what I expected."

Glancing sideways at the other woman, Lindsay completed Angell's unspoken thought with a raised eyebrow but no real censure. "For him?" Lindsay asked with a humorless smile.

Obviously unsure what to say, Angell ignored the question. "Butterflies?"

"What?" Lindsay blinked.

"Do you get butterflies? In your stomach," Angell clarified.

"Oh," Lindsay said, letting out a giddy laugh. "A riot of 'em."

Angell smirked again as they waited for the light to change so they could cross the street. "Butterflies are good."

"Are they? I'm not so sure about that," Lindsay muttered.

"So if you're so into him, why the freeze out?"

"What?" Lindsay glanced at her as they stepped into the street.

"Well, he's obviously interested if he's turning down other women—"

"You don't know that's because of me," Lindsay protested. They were almost to Sullivan's. If she could just evade the question for a few more seconds, she'd be golden.

Angell laughed. "Actually, I do. I know it for a fact."

"He said it was?" Lindsay whispered, pausing on the sidewalk.

"Mmhmm. After you," Angell said, pulling open the door to the pub and gesturing inside.

Blinking in surprise, Lindsay mindlessly walked inside, standing just beyond the doorway until Angell stepped up next to her. "They're over there," Angell told her when Lindsay didn't make any move to actually enter the pub. With a frown, Angell pointed then led the way to the table.

Lindsay followed her through the crowd, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes when a man at the bar winked in her direction. Flack and Danny were the only ones at the table, and the two empty chairs were obviously reserved for Lindsay and Angell.

"Hey," Flack said, jerking his head in greeting. Danny smiled at her and slid the chair next to his out with his foot.

She smiled back, feeling very affectionate towards Danny at the moment. He looked a little surprised at first, but then his smile deepened and his eyes turned warm. Trying not to blush, she eased herself into the proffered chair, unbuttoning her coat.

"White wine?" Danny asked as she shrugged the garment off.

She nodded, and he gestured to a waitress wandering through the crowd. As the woman came closer with a wide smile, Lindsay felt her stomach sink. She recognized her. This was the waitress who tended to display her ample cleavage specifically for Danny.

As the waitress leaned over to do just that, Lindsay saw Flack's eyes slip down to the offered view and she tried to quell the urge to beat him with her purse. Angell caught her attention and rolled her eyes with a smirk, making Lindsay bite her lip to hide a smile.

"What can I do for you?" the waitress asked with a sultry smile.

Lindsay couldn't look at Danny, hating the wolfish expression she was sure she'd see there. She'd seen it before, directed at the various beauties that threw themselves at him, and had wondered why he'd never turned that gaze on her. With her it was always a smirk or a teasing once-over. He'd never gone into full seduction mode on her as he seemed to at the drop of a hat with other women.

It bothered her more than it should.

"A white wine for the lady," she heard him say—his tone a little friendlier than warranted by the situation. "Did you want something?"

Angell shrugged across the table. "Same."

The waitress nodded. "Coming right up." Then she was sliding away again with one last smile right into Danny's eyes. Lindsay swallowed convulsively.

"You wrap that case up, yet?" Flack asked. "With the million dollar stripper?"

Angell glared at him. "Half a million, actually, and, yes, this afternoon."

"Oh, well, excuse me."

"What kind of detective are you?" Lindsay teased him with a small smile.

"C'mon Monroe, not you, too."

The waitress reappeared, setting two napkins and two glasses on the table. "Anything else?" she asked, looking straight at Danny.

"That's it," he said. This time, Lindsay snuck a glance at him. He had his wicked half-smile on and her gaze jerked back to her wine. A raw, rabid feeling spread through her chest.

The waitress, gone, Danny sat back and casually stretched an arm out along the back of her chair. Meeting Angell's eyes again as Danny and Flack descended into conversation, she saw the detective shaking her head. She looked almost amused, really.

Lindsay knew she was being quiet, not participating enough in the conversation to seem normal, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She felt Angell eyeing her every so often and she tried to smile at her, but her skin felt too tight all of a sudden.

Which might have been why she nearly jumped out of her skin when Danny's hand accidentally brushed against her shoulder. Trying to cover the rather obvious jerk, she jumped from her chair and glanced around the table. "I need a beer. Anyone want anything?"

Angell's eyes darted to Lindsay's nearly empty wine glass before shaking her head. "Nope, I'm good thanks."

"Danny? Flack?" she asked.

Danny shook his head, looking highly entertained while Flack frowned at her. "Monroe, we can just call the waitress over."

"No, no, take too long. It's fine. Really."

Turning, she started pushing her way through the people around the bar. They'd been there for over an hour and the crowd had thinned considerably, but she knew it would be a wait. Staking a claim on a stool, she was surprised when the bartender came over almost immediately.

"What can I get ya, doll?" he asked in a thick Irish brogue.

"A Guinness, please?"

"Good choice," he said with a wink and Lindsay smiled as he moved back down the bar.

Leaning her elbows on the glossy wood, she watched absently as he started three drinks at once. The man really was a genius. She was so lost in her own thoughts, she barely noticed as someone squeezed into the space next to her at the bar. Unconsciously, she moved over to give the newcomer more room.

"How's it going, peaches?"

Glancing up, she found a man staring down at her with a lecherous gleam in his eye. "Peaches?" she asked coldly, turning her eyes back to the bartender.

"Can I get ya a drink?"

"Already getting one," she answered, refusing to look at him again. The bartender came back up to her and slid the pint at her. Reaching into her pocket, she tossed down the appropriate amount of money and turned to go.

She didn't really feel much more than surprise when the guy's hand on her arm held her in place. Sighing, she steeled herself then glared up at him. "Let go."

"C'mon, don't be like that."

"Let go of me," she repeated. His eyes turned cold and he squeezed her arm a bit. "You don't want to do that."

His smirk started to slide off his face. He was obviously annoyed now. Irritated that it had gone this far, Lindsay tossed her beer in his face, and broke his hold on her arm as he sputtered in surprise.

"Sorry," she told the bartender, throwing an extra few bills on the bar.

He just shook his head and handed her another Guinness. "Not a problem."

She almost laughed at the drink now in her hand, but was too angry to do more than smile tightly and storm back to the table. When she got there, Angell and Flack were staring at her in shock while Danny looked more dazed than anything else. Lindsay collapsed in her chair, still breathing fast from the incident.

"That was hot," Angell told her calmly after a moment, making Lindsay choke on her beer.

She coughed for a second. "You liked that, huh?" she said when she could breathe again.

"Oh, yeah."

Flack shook his head at the two of them. "You want I should beat some sense into him, Monroe?"

She chuckled. "I think he learned his lesson."

Flack raised one black eyebrow. "Lesson?"

"Never call me peaches," she told him seriously. When Angell and Flack started laughing, she finally felt her muscles relax.

It was Danny's turn to be quiet, but Lindsay was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn't notice. He'd seen the man slide in next to her and immediately pegged him as trouble. When he'd grabbed Lindsay's arm, Danny had shot out of his seat, only to fall back into it as Lindsay's beer made an appearance in the guy's face.

Danny knew that Lindsay thought the whole thing was over, but he could tell the guy's pride was hurt. So—thinking he might try something—Danny waited a few minutes to excuse himself and made his way to the back room of the pub. He'd watched the man slink back here afterwards and knew he'd find him surrounded by buddies. He was that type.

Sure enough, he found them laughing around a pool table, three other guys with him. The pool cues didn't look too promising should this get out of hand, but Danny was beyond caring.

"Hey," he said casually as the guy turned around. "How ya doing?"

Shirt and hair still wet with beer, the other man eyed Danny disdainfully. "You got a problem?"

Danny chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, no. No problem really. Just a friendly chat."

"Man,I don't swing that way," the guy said, starting to turn away.

Reaching out, Danny caught his arm in a painfully tight grip. "You touch my girl again, you're gonna wish you did," he warned, smile still locked on his face.

The guy's eyes narrowed. "I didn't see no sign on her."

"Must not have been looking hard enough." Lindsay would quite probably murder him if she heard him say that.

He knew the exact moment Flack stepped up behind him. Immediately, the flunkies who'd been closing in on the Danny and the neanderthal started backing away.

"Everything all right in here, detective?" Flack asked tensely. "There a problem?"

Danny smiled again and let go of the guy's arm. "Nah, we was just chatting."

"You're a cop?" the guy demanded. "This is police brutality."

The other men shifted nervously as Danny's smile became a glare. "Oh, really? Interesting since you assaulted an officer back there."

"She's a cop, too?" The guy drew back as though he'd smelled something terrible. "What is this, a setup?"

"Yeah," Flack said sarcastically. "We planted her at the bar so you'd humiliate yourself. Get out of here."

When none of the men moved, Flack took a step forward. "That look on his face don't mean nothing good for you. If you're not out of here in ten seconds, I'm letting him loose."

For a moment, no one moved. Then one of the men set his cue on the felt and the others followed suit. Danny didn't move as they filed out the door, his eyes locked on the neanderthal until he moved behind him.

"What was that, Danny?" Flack demanded when they were alone.

"He touched her, man."

"Yeah, not cool, I agree. But she handled it. Why the theatrics?" he asked as Danny finally turned to face him.

"I know guys like him." Danny insisted, gesturing angrily at the doorway. "He was gonna try something."

"With the three of us there?"

Danny shook his head disgustedly. "He could have followed her home."

"Danny, listen to yourself. She turned down a sleezy guy in a bar. Why are you flipping out?"

Danny ran a hand over his face. "We see these things all the time, Flack. He coulda…" he trailed off as the adrenaline faded away.

Shaking his head, Flack turned away for a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was soothing. "Monroe can take care of herself. She's not like the girls you date, Messer."

Danny's head shot up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Completely exasperated, Flack threw up a hand and walked away. Danny trailed behind him, still in a horrible mood. When they rejoined Lindsay and Angell at the table, they were laughing and Danny wondered what was so funny.

He was pretty sure he hadn't seen Lindsay laugh so hard since before last fall. It should have made him feel better to see her happy. It's what he'd wanted for her for a long time. Instead, he felt like he's swallowed a lemon.

He tried to shrug it off, but after ten minutes of stewing over it, he gave up. Disgusted with himself, he stood as casually as possible and started pulling on his leather jacket. Lindsay glanced up at him.

"You leaving?" she asked, her question catching Angell's and Flack's attention.

"Yeah," he said, his voice cool. "I'm on call tomorrow."

Lindsay nodded and glanced down. His gaze followed hers to the still full beer in front of her then met her eyes when she lifted them back to his face.

"You wanna share a cab?" she asked, her cheeks slightly pink.

His heart flipped in his chest and he shrugged. "Sure."

Nodding again, she quickly stood and took the jacket Flack offered. Angell caught Danny's eye and tilted her head to the side with a frown, but he dropped her gaze without responding.

"You kids get home safe now," Flack told them with a little wave.

Lindsay laughed and waved back. "See you."

Danny forced himself not to put a hand on her lower back as he lead the way out of the bar. He still felt vaguely unnerved by the whole incident and he found himself unsure how he was supposed to act around her.

He'd told the slimeball she was his girl, but she wasn't. Until now, he'd been operating under the assumption that they were more than friends despite the awkwardness that had been between them lately. But the conversation with Neanderthal Guy had only served to highlight that they weren't. He had no right to confront the guy, had no hold on Lindsay whatsoever, as Flack had so eloquently pointed out.

Suddenly, the ground under Danny's feet seemed very treacherous.

"You okay?"

Glancing down, he saw Lindsay staring worriedly at him and realized he'd been silent for a very long time. Signaling a cab, he nodded and opened the door for her. He felt like an ass when he saw her bite her lip as she leaned down to slide across the seat. But, really, what did she expect from him?

Stifling a groan—sharing a cab had been a bad idea—he slid in after her and gave the driver her address. He felt her stare, but he turned his face so she couldn't see his profile.

A long, awkward pause filled the car as the cab swerved in and out of lanes. They'd gotten a particularly aggressive cabbie, and Danny sighed inwardly as they swung around a corner just a little too fast.

"Danny?"

His eyes slid closed and he didn't move. "Yeah?"

"What's going on? What happened?"

"Nothing, Lindsay. Everything's fine." Her sigh sounded very loud in his ears.

They were only a few blocks from her building; he could hold out that long. She shifted next to him. He tried hard to hold it together, but when he felt her fingers gently brush his hand, his head dropped forward to rest against the window.

"Danny," she murmured, moving her fingers soothingly over his skin.

Flipping his hand over, he caught her fingers with his, stilling them. If she kept it up, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from pulling her close and holding on. Calmly, she threaded her fingers through his and let their hands rest on the seat between them.

When the cab started to pull up in front of her building, Lindsay spoke again. "You want coffee or something?" she asked quietly.

Danny stirred and looked at her finally. Her expression was gentle and completely devoid of the irritation he expected to see. She was just worried about him. He found himself nodding.

She smiled and shook his hand a little before letting go. When she reached for her wallet, Danny beat her to it and paid the driver.

"Thanks man," Danny said, opening the door. "Have a good night."

"You, too," the driver said absently.

"Night," Lindsay added, taking Danny's offered hand and letting him help her from the car.

Danny silently followed her up the steps and inside. In the elevator, Lindsay leaned against the side of the car and raked her eyes over him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stared at the increasing numbers and pretended not to notice.

Lindsay's apartment was only a few doors down from the elevator, so she had it open by the time he caught up with her. She walked in, leaving him to lock the door behind them.

"Please tell me you always lock your door," he muttered to her.

She shot him a confused look. "Of course I do. Why?"

He shook his head and turned to find her moving towards the kitchen. "Coffee?" she called.

"You got a beer?"

She glanced at him, surprised, but she merely shrugged. "Guiness or Fat Tire?"

"Surprise me," he said with a smirk. While she grabbed two beers and opened them, he wandered into her tiny living room.

He'd never been inside before and he found himself studying his surroundings. Bookcases stuffed to their maximum capacity, a comfortable rather than fashionable looking couch, large tv, coasters on the coffee table, all served to highlight what he already knew about her. He felt a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. But, contrary to what he'd expect, she didn't have snapshots adorning the walls; instead she had a couple of framed prints.

"Here."

Moving his head to the side, he saw her holding out a bottle. He didn't care what it was and barely registered the taste.

"South of France," she said in answer to his unspoken question.

"You been there?" He couldn't help the surprise in his voice, but she didn't look offended.

She snorted derisively. "No. My French teacher in high school gave it to me as a graduation gift."

"Why?" he asked, watching her carefully.

Shrugging, she took a sip from her own glass of water. "At the time, the plan was Princeton, travel for a year around Europe, then medical school."

"You wanted to be a doctor?" The thought made his shoulders tense just slightly.

She nodded without expression. "Things change," she said dismissively, then turned to take a seat on her couch.

He met her eyes, reading the question in them, before walking to her window. Staring out at the small street below, he swallowed thickly. "You remember the guy from the bar?"

"Who? Grabby hands?"

"I went after him."

There was a small gasp behind him and he winced, quickly raising his beer to his mouth to camouflage the reaction. She was quiet after that, so quiet for so long that he couldn't take it anymore and turned to look at her.

She seemed confused. "But…why?"

Running a frustrated hand over his hair, he shifted his weight agitatedly. "I don't know. He touched you."

"So?" she asked, her forehead crumpled.

"I'm sorry. I know you can take care of yourself, I just…"

Lindsay regarded him from across the room, her eyes narrowed as she studied him. She took a deep breath to say something, stopped and looked away. Finally, all she asked was "What'd you do?"

"Told him never to touch you again."

Eyebrows raised, Lindsay folded her arms, glowering at him crossly. "This is New York, Danny. The odds of ever seeing him again are slim to none."

"I know, I know, I know. Look, I knew guys growing up who didn't take 'no' so well." He cut himself off, turning away, back to the view—rather nice for such a tiny apartment.

"Thank you for worrying about me, but, like you said, I can take care of myself."

"I know."

Sighing over his own pathetic behavior, Danny crossed the room to sit on the couch. He made sure to sit on the opposite end and he felt Lindsay tense at the gesture. Silence fell between them as he rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"Danny?" she asked after a minute.

Surprised to hear the hesitation in her voice, he felt his eyebrows pull together as he glanced at her. "Yeah?"

"Why did you go after him?"

Seeing her sitting there safe and sound with that innocent, tentative expression was like a shot of tequila straight to the bloodstream, and his brain reacted appropriately: near complete shut down. "I just told you," he murmured.

Her eyes refused to let his go and the effect was heady. "No, I mean…" She paused and licked her lips. "Would you have done that if it had been Stella?"

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind and then another for him to make any sense of them. Slowly, he shook his head. "No."

Her expression grew warmer as her head tilted to the side. "Then why?"

"You know why."

He watched, fascinated, as her pupils dilated and her breathing grew labored. His eyes flicked down to her mouth then up again. He felt his own lips part as her eyes slid closed and her body shuddered.

She was standing and moving towards the kitchen before he could blink. "You're on call tomorrow?"

His sluggish brain tried to catch up with the new topic. "Yeah. On call."

"Me, too," she said briskly, dumping the rest of her water in the sink.

He caught the hint but didn't move. She wasn't getting rid of him that easily this time. "You wanna watch a movie?" he asked, staring at her television.

The dishwasher creaked open behind him and he heard glass clink together as she loaded her cup in. He held his breath, knowing she'd probably kick him out.

"Sure," she said finally, coming back into the living room. She gestured towards the bookshelf while he tried to tame the smile spreading across his face. "You wanna pick something out?"

He pushed himself up from his cushion with a shrug and made his way to the indicated bookshelf. She shot him a grin as she passed him on her way to take her seat and he could have sworn the air in her apartment turned to pure oxygen. His head felt light and his knees felt a little weaker than usual.

Forcing himself to scan her titles, he felt a scowl forming. "Chick flicks," he sighed. "Shoulda known."

He was pretty sure it was the only time he'd ever heard Lindsay Monroe giggle.

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Kavi Leighanna: I really never thought you were being bratty. I appreciated the constructive criticism; I always want to improve the way I write and I like the feedback and honesty. Thank you. I'm glad this chapter was better than the last few. Hopefully, things are cohering better from here on out.

messermonroe: I hope this solved some of the tension issue; they were definitely headed for a bit of a blow-out like this. I mean, it won't be gone entirely until they finally manage to get themselves on the same page, but it's shaping up. (Early morning is an evil time of day, it messes with your mind.)

Muzzy-Olorea: This story will refer back to the last in the upcoming chapters, but it definitely could be a stand alone. I like the friendship between Lindsay and Angell, too. They just seem so well matched. More of that coming. Yeah, jealousy issues are being served on a platter in this fic. Let me know if it's too much. :-p

chili-peppers: I'm hoping the friendship between Lindsay and Angell keeps gaining fans; I'm really liking Angell in this. More D/L goodness in the next chapter, too.

Tenley: It's been hard coming up with interesting cases. I think I've just about tapped out my brain. I understand the frustration. Reading back over the chapters without more of an idea of where it was going, I could see why everyone thought it was a bit strange after Montana.

specialfrog: Danny did seem a bit off, didn't he...I think that, even though he understands to an extent, he's getting a bit tired of Lindsay's hot and cold behavior. Thanks so much for your review. I'm so glad you think I'm writing something new and different. Sometimes I feel like the story isn't original at all. It's good to know I'm just paranoid.

The Little Corinthian: Seriously. Shouldn't my boss understand that some days you just need to take time off to write your fanfiction? It seems reasonable to me. I hope I didn't blow your expectations out of the water too much. Angell's just been taking such a shine to Lindsay—and she really only wants Danny for his body—that I didn't picture her still trying to seduce the man. Of course, the thing with the waitress was along the lines of what you were expecting...And she will appear again! Mwahahaha...ha...(trails off) Yeah, it's time for bed.

CSIMel: I'm digging in my brain for all the little science trivia I've picked up from the show and from my lab tech roommate. I'm starting to run low! (looks worried)

qt4good: Lindsay is making head way, I agree. I think things will move along nicely for her from now on. Hopefully, that includes letting Danny in just a little bit more than she has been.


	6. Chapter 6

A.N. Sorry this took so long to get up here. Sometimes it feels like I don't do anything but work (I had to cover for a few friends who're sick; the flu is really vicious this year). But Danny and Lindsay finally made some progress! Woot!

And, no, still don't own anything.

Also, my spell checker isn't working right now (damn you Word!!!!), so I'm sorry if I missed any glaring typos.

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Lindsay sat straight up in bed, sweat pouring down her back and forehead. It was a cold sweat, making her shiver violently as she wrapped the blankets tightly around herself and pulled her legs up to her chest.

The dream was fading now, as they all usually did in the minutes after she woke. But the image of Danny's face twisted in pain haunted her, making her bury her head in her knees.

She was so helpless. She couldn't move to save him as the gun raised and pointed at him. All she could do was watch the man—faceless and terrifying—pull the trigger and Danny's blood spread across his shirt.

A small sob escaped her throat.

It had been almost a week since the last nightmare and she dubbed that a small blessing. But apparently they weren't gone, as she had hoped, and watching Danny die—again—was just as horrific as it had been a month ago.

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Lindsay stormed into the break room, making Hawkes jump as he tried to pour coffee in his mug. Danny, who'd had the benefit of seeing her marching down the hall, just eyed her warily from his position at the table.

Throwing open the drawer, she pulled out a power bar and slammed it shut again with her hip. Hawkes smiled tentatively at her as she brushed past him in a bee line for the coffee and was visibly relieved when she smiled tightly back. But he still beat a hasty escape, leaving Danny to bear the brunt of her anger.

When she yanked out the chair across from him and plopped herself onto it, he tipped his head to the side. "You okay, Montana?"

"Adam should be…be…" But her anger seemed to have run its course and she couldn't think of any kind of punishment for the lab tech. She sighed, propping her elbow on the table and dropping her cheek into her palm. "I need those results."

"Ease up, he's working as fast as he can," Danny told her calmly.

"I know. Its just…Angell and I have two suspects in custody, but can't put either of them at the scene until we get the DNA results back."

Danny nodded. "I'm waiting on COD from Sid. Everybody's backed up this week." He paused as she stirred her coffee morosely. "You two been working together a lot."

Frowning, Lindsay glanced at him. "Who?" she asked absently.

"You and—" He stopped himself from saying Jennifer. "Angell."

Raising an eyebrow, she nodded. "I guess. Mac assigns the cases," she reminded him with a small smile.

"Sure, sure. Just interesting, that's all."

She shrugged and ripped open the foil around the power bar. He watched her take a tiny bite before setting it aside. The circles were back under her eyes, and he felt his fist clench on his lap.

"You all right?" he asked gently.

Raising her eyes to his, she stared at him for a moment then smiled wanly. "Not really, no. I just can't seem to sleep." She rubbed her forehead and her expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry I've been snappy."

"You? Never," he said seriously, his muscles easing when she chuckled at the lame joke.

He paused to take a sip of his own coffee before trying again. "Same dreams?"

Her eyes were wide as they swung back to his, and he lowered his coffee in surprise. "Lindsay?" he asked worriedly, his voice almost a whisper.

Her lids slid down to cover them for a minute and her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed. When she opened them again, they no longer looked so pained or vulnerable, but Danny could see the remnants lurking in the way she couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"Not quite, no." She forced a smile. "But they're getting less frequent."

Nodding, he wondered what he should say to that. Was that really such a good thing if it meant they were still around in general?

"What's different?" She bit her lip. "Not here?" he guessed and she hesitated, her lips parting slightly.

Noticing movement behind her, Danny glanced past her shoulder and swallowed. "Flack and Angell," he murmured, giving her time to regroup.

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he saw Flack spot them and wave. Danny jerked his head in response, his eyes landing back on Lindsay and was relieved to see her calm expression.

The door swung open behind her and Danny smiled a bit as Flack held the door for Angell. "What's shakin, Messer?" Angell asked, then tapped Lindsay on the shoulder. "Hey."

Lifting her head, Lindsay smiled at the other woman. "Hey. How was lunch?"

"Looks like it was better than yours." Angell smirked, gesturing at the remains of the power bar.

Flack leaned against the table next to Danny and grinned down at him. "You up for some handball tomorrow, Messer?"

Danny sneered at him. "You planning on finishing the game this time?"

"What are you doing Saturday?" Angell was asking Lindsay as Flack sputtered with indignation.

"I'm supposed to have the day off, but we'll see. Why, what's going on?"

"First round at Sullivan's says I take you in the first go," Flack bragged, crossing his arms over his chest.

Danny smiled gamely and crumpled his paper napkin. Tossing it to the side, he barely watched as it swished into the trashcan. "You're on."

"Shoe shopping."

"What?" Lindsay asked, standing to throw the rest of her power bar in the trash.

"I need to go shoe shopping."

"Need? Any particular reason?"

"Retail therapy. It's gonna be a long week."

Lindsay laughed. "It's only Monday."

"Like I said, it's gonna be a long week."

Flack fell silent, but Danny didn't notice as he watched out of the corner of his eye as Lindsay and Angell moved from the room, laughing together. When they were out of sight down the hall, Flack cleared his throat.

Glancing up, Danny slid from his chair, snatching up his coffee mug as he went. "What time tomorrow?"

"You worried about that for some reason?"

When Danny looked at him again, Flack gestured with his head to indicate the door the women had just moved through. "Why would I be worried?" Danny asked with a trace of amusement in his tone.

"Honestly, I have no clue." Flack watched as Danny poured a mug of coffee and replaced the pot on the burner.

"I'm fine." Taking a gulp of coffee, he shifted restlessly. "Isn't it a little strange, though?"

Frowning, Flack glanced over his shoulder as if he could still see them. "Why would it be?"

"They don't really have anything in common," Danny pointed out.

"They both seem to like shoes," Flack offered, obviously unsure where this conversation was going.

Danny stared at him for a minute then shook his head as if to clear it. "Forget it. Whatcha got for me?"

Shrugging, Flack started to outline the details he'd picked up from their suspect. Meanwhile, Danny immersed himself in thinking about the case so he wouldn't have to think about Lindsay and Angell. Talking.

It shouldn't worry him, but it did. The way Lindsay and Angell seemed to be getting so close. A voice was telling him he had to tell Lindsay what had happened between he and Angell and he tried to ignore it. Which was easy to do since it really wasn't very loud. His fear was drowning it out.

He knew, though, that she deserved his honesty. Especially considering they were on uneasy footing as it was. They weren't kids, she could handle the truth. And what if she heard it from Angell first? That would be bad.

Very bad.

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Lindsay eyed the strappy sandal Jen was currently holding up for her inspection. "I don't know. Is that glitter?"

Peering more closely at it, Jen wrinkled her nose. "Oh. Huh. Nevermind," she said, setting shoe back on its display.

Lindsay bit back a chuckle and slowly wandered to the next table. "What are we looking for exactly?"

"Nothing specific, just whatever strikes me, ya know?"

Blinking, Lindsay considered this. She'd never gone shopping this way; she'd always had a concrete idea of what she wanted, gone into the store and come out maybe twenty minutes later. Jen's way could be fun, though.

"I don't really know much about you," Jen said, picking up a pump and setting it down again.

Smiling, Lindsay stepped up next to the other woman and eyed the pump. They would be good for the field. She picked it up before she replied. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Jen hedged, staring at a stiletto. Waving at a sales person, she motioned to the shoe. "Could I try this in a nine, please?"

"And this in a six?" Lindsay added, brandishing the pump. The sales person hurried away and Jen led Lindsay to a pair of chairs near the table.

"Family?"

"Parents, brother, uncle."

"That's it? No cousins, grandparents, nieces, nephews?"

"Nope." Lindsay paused as the salesman hurried back up to them with two boxes. "Thank you."

"Thanks," Jen added, toeing off her own shoes.

As they slid the heels on, Lindsay continued. "My mom is an only child. My uncle has no kids. My brother refuses to settle down with a woman. And, unfortunately, all my grandparents are dead."

"I'm sorry," Jen said, looking up from the shoes.

Lindsay shrugged with a small smile. "It's been a long time."

After a pause, Jen slipped the shoes off. "They're cute, but I already tower over most men. You should try them, though."

"Stilettos? I don't think so," Lindsay said on a laugh. "When you're only five one and you wear four inch heels, you just look like you're trying too hard."

Jen laughed and Lindsay stood in the pumps. Comfortable. "What about you? Large family?"

"About three hundred members," Jen told her with a snort. "I have five brothers, twelve aunts and uncles plus their spouses, twenty-two first cousins and I can't count their children, my brothers' wives and their children. The list goes on."

Lindsay stared at her with wide eyes. "Wow."

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure we could populate a small country." Then she shrugged, packing the stilettos back in the box. "But it's pretty normal for an Italian family. I'm sure Messer's family rivals mine."

Lindsay took great interest in the sole of the pump. "I wouldn't know."

"Haven't met 'em yet?"

"Of course not. We're not dating," she reminded Jen, putting the pump back down.

"Of course not," Jen mocked gently. "You just operate under this strange complex relationship."

"What are you talking about?" Lindsay asked, beginning to sound irritated.

But Jen didn't seem to care about annoying her. "You're not in a real let's-throw-dinner-parties-with-other-couples relationship. But he won't date anyone else, you won't date anyone else. He buys you drinks and puts his arm around your chair when you go out. You go to him for help with problems—"

"That's for work," Lindsay protested.

"Do you go to Stella? Hawkes?" When Lindsay didn't respond, Jen shrugged. "There you go. You, Lindsay Monroe, are in an undefined committed relationship with Danny Messer. You just won't admit it."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lindsay eyed the other woman. "Then why aren't we sleeping together?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Frankly, I have no idea. What do you think of these?" Jen asked, holding up a shoe from the table behind them.

"Cute," Lindsay murmured, still a little shocked at Jen's analysis.

"College?"

Startled, Lindsay snapped her eyes to Jen. "Huh?"

"Where did you go to college?" Jen elaborated, watching as Lindsay tried to pull her mind back to the conversation.

"University of Montana."

"Homebody, eh?" Jen surmised with a pleased expression.

Lindsay looked away, forcing a bright smile to her own face. "What about you?"

"I took a couple classes at Queens College," Jen said. "But that was more to appease my dad."

"He didn't want you to be a cop?" Lindsay asked, surprised.

Looking down at the table as she waited for Jen's answer, Lindsay tensed then slid a finger under the strap of a shoe and held it up for Jen to see. It was a gold lamée platform with a huge glittery floret on the toe.

Jen pulled a face at it. "Scary."

Lindsay shook her head and carefully replaced the shoe while Jen started speaking again. "My dad wanted me to go to college, get a degree, have a better life than the one he and my mom had."

"What's wrong with being a detective?"

"Nothing. He's proud that this is what I wanted to do. He just...wanted better for me."

Lindsay thought of her own father and Connor. Her father had wanted better for her, too, but that didn't mean much when they tried to run your life. "Are your brothers on the force?"

She didn't remember having heard of another Angell in the precinct, but she rarely spoke to any cops save the detectives they worked with on cases.

"Nah. One's a Seal; he's not around much. Another runs a pizza parlor in Queens with his wife. My youngest is studying law at NYU; Dad's real proud of him. One works construction. The other's an accountant."

"Do you think he would have been more open to one of the boys..." Lindsay trailed off, feeling uncomfortable asking.

Jen didn't seem bothered by the question, though. She frowned and raised a sandal with one finger. "Probably not, but none of them wanted to be, so it was never an issue like it was with us."

Lindsay nodded. The salesman took the lull in conversation to pop back up. "How did the shoes work for you ladies?"

"I'll take the pumps," Lindsay told him with a smile. "We just wanted to look around some more."

"Excellent. I'll just leave these with Gloria for you," the man said with a sales smile, pointing at the register.

"Thank you," Lindsay murmured as the man walked away.

"How did your parents feel about you becoming a CSI?"

Shrugging, Lindsay tried to think of a good answer. One she wouldn't have to explain. "It made them a little uncomfortable, but they were supportive."

"They didn't like it when you moved out here, did they?" Jen asked knowingly.

"They weren't ecstatic, no." She paused. "My dad was worse about it. My mom came to grips with it pretty quickly. I think they both hoped I would get it out of my system and then come crawling back."

Lindsay winced at her bitter tone and glanced at Angell, who looked sympathetic. "When I went into the academy, my dad told me that if I hated it, I could always quit. No one would think less of me." Jen hesitated. "I knew how he meant it, but it just..."

"Rankled?"

"Yeah. I mean, why did he think I wouldn't make it?" she asked, a little bitterness seeping into her tone as well.

The women glanced at each other in understanding and both suppressed sighs. "You hungry?" Lindsay asked, stepping away from the shoes.

Jen dropped a shoe back on the table. "I could eat."

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Detective Emery smiled at Lindsay as she walked up to him. Glad the new detective was turning out to be so friendly, she smiled back. "What have we got?" she asked, glancing at Hawkes as he came up beside her.

Emery pointed with his pen towards the bedroom of the apartment. "Looks like it might have been a drug deal gone bad. DB on the bed. ME's with it now."

Lindsay nodded and started off down the hall. "You want body or scene?" she asked Hawkes.

The other man shrugged, glancing behind them. "Scene, I suppose."

"You all right?" Lindsay asked, sending him a worried glance. Hawkes never seemed this lackluster.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just not enough sleep, I guess. Sorry," he apologized with his gentle smile.

Lindsay shook her head. "Like I'm one to protest mood swings?" she asked wryly and was relieved to hear Hawkes laugh.

"You weren't that bad."

"Yeah, I was," she contradicted him calmly. "Danny took the brunt of it, though."

The answer seemed to surprise him into silence as they came up to the doorway. Glancing in, they saw the ME standing over the vic with the thermometer.

"How long?" Hawkes asked, setting his kit down just inside the doorway. He took the camera Lindsay offered him and carefully stepped inside the room.

The ME glanced over her shoulder to look at them. "Two to three hours. Tops."

Lindsay raised an eyebrow. "Odd. Who called it in?" she wondered aloud.

"Neighbor," Emery said from behind her. Startled, Lindsay raised wide eyes to his. He looked apologetic and reached out a hand to steady her. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, that's all right." He didn't remove his hand, though, and the weight of it on her elbow started to make her feel uncomfortable.

Pulling away, Lindsay stepped closer to the body as Hawkes watched silently. "What'd the neighbor have to say?"

"Heard a thumping noise around eight this morning, but wasn't sure what it was. Then she heard rustling in the apartment, which she claimed was odd because the vic never got up before noon. She came over to knock on his door later and he didn't answer. She knew he was home cuz his paper was still on his mat. That's when she called us."

Hawkes darted his gaze between Lindsay and Emery before turning back to his camera. Lindsay turned to the ME. "You got cause of death?"

"Asphyxiation. See the eyes?" she asked, gently pulling back one lid.

"No bruising, though," Lindsay murmured, eyeing the vic's neck.

"So, no strangulation." Hawkes and Lindsay both looked to the ME for confirmation. At her affirmative, Hawkes continued. "Then we need to find what smothered him."

Lindsay glanced around the room. "My best guess would be the pillow unless the killer took whatever it was with him."

Nodding, Hawkes took a few more pictures then stepped back to his kit. "I'll go grab the larger evidence bags from the SUV."

"Sounds good. Body ready?" Lindsay asked the ME, who was packing up her equipment.

"All yours."

"Thanks."

"I'm gonna go interview some more neighbors. See if anyone saw our killer when he left," Emery said, gesturing over his shoulder.

Lindsay barely glanced at him as she leaned over the body. "See you back at the precinct."

"Friendly guy," Hawkes commented when they were alone.

Without looking up, Lindsay shrugged. "I guess. You didn't like him?" she asked, picking up the other camera.

Hawkes didn't answer and when she glanced at him he didn't look at her. Raising her eyebrow, she didn't push it, silently returning her attention to the body.

When he finally murmured out an answer, several minutes had passed. "Danny's not going to like him."

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"Whatcha got for me, Monroe?" Emery asked, rubbing his hands together as he stepped into her lab.

Lindsay glanced up at him with a laugh. "Lab results aren't exactly instantaneous, Emery. You have to give me a little more time."

"You must have something," he argued, smiling down at her.

Shaking her head, she spun around and picked up the page the printer had just spit out. As she did, she caught a glimpse of Danny standing just outside the door to the lab. She smiled at him, but his face remained blank, his eyes moving between her and Emery.

Frowning, she looked away, down at the paper in her hands. Trying to remember what the results meant, she looked up and nearly stumbled back. Emery was much closer than he had been a few seconds before.

Handing him the paper, she hurried back to the table, trying to put distance between them. "The print Hawkes found at the scene belongs to Edward Merriweather."

"He has two priors for breaking and entering and attempted robbery," Emery murmured, eyeing the new suspect.

"Go get him, copper." Lindsay leaned back over the microscope, hoping the conversation was over.

"I'll call his parole officer. See if he's been showing up to his appointments."

"Okay." Lindsay kept her face glued to the eyepiece of the microscope.

"Then you wanna go grab some lunch?"

It sounded casual, but it wasn't hard to discern the seriousness in his invitation. He'd made his interest quite clear all day, and this was just their first case together. Deciding to nip it in the bud before it got worse, Lindsay raised her head and smiled gently. "No, thank you."

Emery took it in stride and just nodded. "I'll call you when we've got Merriweather in custody."

"Great. Talk to you later."

There was a moment of blessed solitude, then the door swung open behind her. "What was that all about?"

Looking over her shoulder, Lindsay met Angell's eyes with a frown. "What was what all about?"

"What Emery asking you out?" Angell asked, jerking a thumb towards the hallway.

"Lunch. He asked me to lunch."

Angell leaned towards her eagerly. "What did you say?"

"I said no," Lindsay told her shrilly. "Was I supposed to say yes?"

"Not to him. But, then, I guess it depends," Angell answered a gleam in her eye. "How long since you were out on a date?"

Feeling her cheeks grow red, Lindsay busied herself with removing the slide from the microscope and putting the sample away. Angell clucked her tongue. "That long, huh?"

Sighing, Lindsay finished writing on the side of the evidence bag and opened the next envelope. "I don't even remember how long."

"It's not like you haven't had invitations," Angell pointed out.

Carefully cutting a sample of the cloth, Lindsay shrugged again. "Pretty much just Danny. My uncle set me up with a guy when I first got here, but he wasn't exactly my type."

"And what's your type? Playboys with attitude?" Angell teased, glancing out the glass wall of the lab. Lindsay followed her eyes and saw Danny in the AV lab across the hall.

"People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones," Lindsay muttered, inexplicably annoyed by the look Angell had given Danny's back.

She heard Angell sigh. "What does that mean?"

"He's your type, too."

Almost angrily, Lindsay shoved the top onto the evidence box for no reason; she wasn't even done with the evidence yet. Frustrated by her own show of temper, Lindsay concentrated on the samples again.

Angell was quiet for a minute. "We flirt, but that's as far as it would ever go, Lindsay. You're my friend. Besides, a little country girl from Montana tamed Danny Messer, wild playboy extraordinaire, remember?"

Lindsay snorted. "Like anyone could tame Danny." She paused then added, "And I'm not little."

"You're five feet tall," Angell said incredulously, folding her arms across her chest.

"Five one."

"Midget," Angell muttered under her breath. Lindsay shot her a glare and prepared another small sample for DNA.

She didn't want to go out with Emery. Her feelings for Danny made the whole idea unpalatable, but she knew that, had she never met Danny, she still wouldn't want to go out with the other detective. He was too...smooth, too calculated.

Danny was unpredictable and often a connundrum. Tough and passionate, yet the sweetest man she had ever known.

Why did she have to prefer playboys with attitude?

"Your uncle set you up on a date?" Jen asked, breaking the silence. "I thought only Italian families did that. Is he Italian?"

"No." Lindsay shook her head wryly. "He's just an interesting man."

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Trixie7: Thanks for reviewing! I just thought that Lindsay needs some more friends aside from Danny. She just doesn't seem that close to anyone else.

Lauren: Sorry this update took so long. Work keeps getting in the way of editing. Annoying. I know, soooooo close. I'm glad Danny didn't just roll over this time and let her pull away again.

messermonroe: I really couldn't see Lindsay getting too upset with Danny. I mean, the overprotectiveness (aka Danny the Pitbull) must be annoying, but she understands why he is that way. Right? Did that make any sense?

CrazyGabs: We're only about halfway through, so I hope you keep liking it! I don't know Angell's character too well, so I don't know if she's really ooc, but I like the way she is here. And, like I said to Trixie, I think Lindsay needs a friend.

ReJo: Yeah, I couldn't really see Lindsay getting too bent out of shape about it. It's just part of Danny's personality. Besides, shouldn't she be used to that sort of behavior from her father and brother (I know I am). And thanks for your reviews of Can't Go Home Again! We'll be seeing Lindsay's family again in this story a little later on.

chili-peppers: I'm glad you liked the D/Lness. There's more coming in the next chapter. Yay for drama!

mercy4vr: It's amazing how women bond over the strangest of circumstances, isn't it? Sadly, the movie watching wasn't addressed in this chapter, but it will be referenced in the next, I promise. I don't think anyone except Danny could make such a serious woman giggle. :-p

Tenley: I think the issues Lindsay has with starting a relationship are pretty varied, particularly considering her sexual past versus Danny's (which will be addressed in more detail later on). But she's starting to deal and Danny's starting to get impatient. And there's more D/L goodness in the next chapter!

scoob2222: I can't imagine Lindsay giggling, you know? But Danny could make her do it, I'm sure.

Kavi Leighanna: Angell seems to be a perfect foil for Lindsay, simultaneously being Lindsay's complete opposite and also exactly like her. It's taking me interesting places and I love it. Lindsay and Danny...those crazy kids. There's definitely more tension coming up as they try to address all their issues. But I think Lindsay is starting to understand the way Danny works a bit more, hence her reaction to the appearance of Danny the Pitbull. And I will be writing more for some time to come; we're only halfway through this story!

qt4good: Lindsay is a tough cookie. I was going to have her smack him, but couldn't really see her being that violent. She'd go for something a little more humiliating than painful. I think my favorite part of this chapter was Flack trying to be soothing, like a mother hen herding Danny back to the table. Sigh. I love Flack.

Wentzy: Hi and thanks for reviewing! Sorry you had to wait awhile for this chapter. Work gets in the way sometimes. If only I didn't like eating and having a place to live. I hope you liked this chapter, too!

specialfrog: Your review just described pretty much exactly what I was aiming for with this story, which is more encouraging than I could say. I'm soooooooo glad it seems to be coming across like I intended. Thank you! The movie night will be addressed more in the upcoming chapters, somewhat indirectly, but still. They are most definitely thrown by each other. I think Danny's starting to get a little metaphorical cabin fever in that corner he's boxed himself into. Poor guy.

The Little Corinthian: Pancaking, the euphimism of the new millenium. I like it. Oh, Lindsay would be so much more subtle than just a smackdown. She would tear that woman to bits systematically. Angell cannot be blamed for wanting Danny's body, but I do like that she's stepped back simply because she likes Lindsay. She's going to be an excellent friend. (rubs hands together) And so fun to write! Particularly since (as Lindsay pointed out) she's the female Danny and also Sex on Sexy Legs.

Ashley Booth: Hi! Thanks for your review! I'm glad you liked Can't Go Home Again and decided to continue with Two Steps Back. Lindsay's family will be showing up again in this story, too. I hope you liked this chapter and decide to keep reading!

CSIMel: The cases seemed to be stealing the spotlight from D/L, though they were good for A/L. Also...I've run out of case ideas for now. I'm definitely not cut out to be a criminal; planning crimes tuckers me out. Poor Danny has to keep reminding Lindsay that he's totally gaga over her. But, never fear, Lindsay will reciprocate if its the last thing I do! Er...write.

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A.N. Sorry if the scene in the break room was hard to follow. It's difficult to write two overlapping conversations. I hope it wasn't too confusing. The next chapter should be up tomorrow!


	7. Chapter 7

A.N. This chapter is a bit longer than usual. Sorry if it's unwieldy; I couldn't figure out a better stopping place for the chapter and I didn't want it to be really, really short. (shrugs) So you got stuck with uber long. Sorry. :-p

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Danny shoved open his locker so hard it flew into the one next to it. The near deafening clang didn't make him flinch even as it echoed through the locker room. Shuffling through the various things he had inside, Danny pulled out a clean button down, cursing Rupert Emery's very existence.

The way he brushed against Lindsay in the lab made Danny's blood boil. And Lindsay would just smile. Sure, she'd move away, but she'd just smile at the son of a—

Danny ripped open the buttons on his shirt, not even caring when he heard several of them ping off the metal lockers and scatter to parts unknown. Tossing the now ruined shirt and his undershirt down to the bottom of his locker, he set the clean one on the bench and moved towards the sinks.

Then, of course, the survivor of his case, ten year old Aaron Kresge, had thrown up on him after id-ing his parents. It was an understandable reaction for a kid. Danny wasn't even upset about it. He never would have made him do it if the poor kid hadn't literally been the only survivor of his family. And until they could get in touch with the Kresges's lawyer, they weren't even sure where he was supposed to go.

But, of course, who should he run into as he turned the corner after being the victim of a projectile vomiting incident? Montana and her new wannabe beau.

It really just figured, didn't it?

After splashing water all over himself and doing a sniff check to make sure he didn't still smell like vomit, Danny headed back out to the locker room. Halfway to the bench, the door opened and he glanced up, catching Lindsay's eye.

He saw her cheeks flush a bit, but he was too mad to pay much attention. Instead, he strode to the bench and picked up the clean polo and undershirt.

"You okay?" Lindsay asked quietly.

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" His voice was cold and he wanted to wince as she shut her eyes, pulling the door shut behind her, but it felt good to let his anger out.

"I don't know. You just seem upset. Angry maybe."

He sent her a scathing glare that had her eyes widening. "I'm fine, Lindsay."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she studied him. "Right. I believe that and you'll tell me another."

Turning back to his locker, he tried to keep his mouth shut. "You calling me a liar?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I don't know. Are you?"

"Like hell I am," he muttered. Finally, he stopped and braced his arms against the lockers, his head hanging between them. "He was all over you."

Lindsasy came closer, opening her locker three down the row. "Emery?"

"What, you got others lined up, too?"

She sent him a wry look. "Yeah, a whole football team's worth."

Shaking his head, he straightened and slammed his locker shut. "It's not funny."

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" she asked tensely. "Danny, I have to watch other women flirt with you every day. You think that's easy for me? I mean, you flirt with Angell right there where I can see all the time."

"Oh come on. You know how I feel about you," Danny argued, his voice raising and echoing off the lockers.

"So do you!" Lindsay yelled back, frustrated into slamming her locker shut. "I told you how I feel—"

"Really? I don't remember that conversation. Was it before or after you told me we couldn't be together? Either time."

He knew he'd regret saying that later, but he was mad and needed her to hurt like he did. To his surprise, she didn't get hurt. Instead, she got steamed.

"Oh, and you were so forthcoming? Drinks and laughs, Danny." When his face froze, her body seemed to deflate. "You said that all you wanted was drinks and laughs," she stated, her voice losing its rancor. "Did you expect me to pour out my soul in response?"

He couldn't think of anything to say. Smiling humorlessly, she nodded and ducked to pick up her back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She was already at the door when he found his voice. "I lied."

It was low and grave, barely audible really, and most definitely what she needed to hear. She stood utterly still, but didn't turn to face him.

"Lindsay, I meant it when I told you I'd wait for you."

"I won't ask you to do that. It's not fair to you," she muttered, her fists clenching at her sides.

Danny lowered his head, steeling himself for what he was about to do. He didn't want to push. He had to. "But do you want me to?"

There was a long pause, and he could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Finally, her shoulders drooped a bit and her hands relaxed.

"Yes," she whispered, almost to softly for him to hear.

With that, she was gone, leaving him staring at the door as it swung shut behind her.

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"You get in touch with AJ's legal guardians?" Danny asked, falling into step beside Angell as she exited the elevator.

"What are you, a ninja?" she muttered, her hand over her heart. When he just looked impatient, she took a deep breath and started walking again. "I talked to the lawyer, Gallagher, but he hasn't been able to get in touch with either Julie or Peter Dunlap. Apparently, they went out of the country on business a few weeks ago and no one's heard from them since. I even tried their parents, no go."

"Great. So the kid has no one in the meantime?"

Angell shrugged. "Don't know what to tell you, Messer. Everybody's on it; lawyer, NYPD, the social worker. We're trying to figure it out."

"Guess it's time to fill Mac in," Danny said grudgingly.

As soon as they turned the corner, Flack and Hawkes came tumbling out of one of the labs. "Mac's office?" Hawkes asked hurriedly, pointing in that direction.

"Yeah. What's with you two? You testing laughing gas?" Angell asked.

The two men shook their heads, obviously excited about something. Danny and Angell followed Flack and Hawkes down the hallway, nearly running into their backs when the men stalled abruptly outside the lab.

"What the hell?" Angell muttered, hands moving to her hips.

Glancing past their shoulders, Danny saw Emery standing much closer to Lindsay than a coworker should. And Danny would know, considering he got as close—if not closer—on a regular basis.

He could feel his shoulders knotting as he watched Lindsay smile gently and move away. He knew her well enough to recognize the annoyance that flickered across her face when Emery closed in again. Somehow, though, her dismissal of the detective's attentions weren't quite the balm to his temper he would have expected. Their fight yesterday replayed in his mind, and he felt the residual anger from the day before coming back to meet up with the new.

Neither Emery nor Lindsay had noticed the group clustered outside the otherwise empty lab, and their conversation was easily audible.

"What about dinner?" Emery asked. Danny itched to knock the confident smile off the other man's face.

"No. Thank you, detective, but no."

"Come on. It's just a get to know you thing."

Stella came up behind the group in the hallway with a folder in her hand. "What's going on?" she asked when she noticed the others crowding the doorway.

"Look," Lindsay said sweetly, backing away from him. "You seem like a nice guy, but there's someone else."

Danny jerked involuntarily and felt Hawkes eye him. Inside, Emery crossed his arms over his chest. "You two serious?"

"It is for me," Lindsay told him, her little chin lifting in the air.

"But not for him," Emery argued, stepping closer with a victorious smile.

Lindsay began to look more than irritated. "Doesn't matter."

"Give me a chance," the detective said smoothly. "Let me change your mind."

Lindsay slapped his hand away as it came towards her arm. "Okay, you know what? That's it."

Everyone outside the room froze, and Detective Emery quirked an eyebrow, clearly taken aback but unworried. "What?"

"I've been nice. Too nice, apparently. I let you down easy every time you asked me out. I told you, point blank, I'm not interested. I even told you that I have feelings for someone else. Yet you insist on hitting on me every chance you get. Well, I'm done playing good cop, here."

Detective Emery glanced away, his eyes widening when he spotted their rapt audience. "Uh—"

"Let me make myself perfectly clear," Lindsay said firmly, arms crossing over her chest. "You ask me out again or attempt to flirt with me in anyway, I will cut off your balls with a rusty spoon and feed them to you for lunch in tiny little pieces. Got it?"

Emery cleared his throat, his neck slightly red around the collar. He nodded.

"No, no. I wanna hear you say it. You understand me?"

Emery met her eyes, his expression cold. "I got it."

"Good."

Spinning around, Lindsay stormed over to the door, faltering as she spotted the group of people openly staring at her through the glass. Yanking the door open, she nodded at them.

"Hey guys," she said, her voice cool despite the red that stained her cheeks.

Angell recovered first. "Very nice, Monroe."

Lindsay smiled uncomfortably, her eyes darting to Danny then away again. "Thanks. I have trace," she mumbled, hurrying away.

After a moment, Hawkes began moving towards Mac's office with Flack in tow, neither of them glancing at the detective who brushed past them. As Emery neared, Stella quickly dropped her eyes to the open file she was holding, desperately pretending to be too preoccupied to have heard Lindsay's outburst. Danny merely watched the detective pass with a blank expression as Angell smirked in amusement.

When he'd disappeared around the corner, Angell laughed a little. "He needed a nice big blow to his ego. Thinks he's God's gift."

Stella glanced at her. "I hope Lindsay's okay."

"Seemed fine to me," the other woman answered with a shrug. Her phone began to vibrate and she excused herself, moving several feet away to answer it.

Stella turned to Danny nervously. "Don't do it, Danny."

His head slowly swiveled to meet hers. "What are you talking about?" he asked expressionlessly.

Stella rolled her eyes. "Lindsay handled him. He's not going to cause more trouble. I doubt he'll even want to work with her again," Stella added wryly.

Danny's face didn't change. "I wasn't gonna do nothing."

Temper flaring, Stella's eyes narrowed to slits. "Keep it that way," she snapped, stalking off to find Adam.

Angell walked back up, glancing at Stella as she stormed by. "What's with her?"

"Nothing," Danny said calmly, flipping open the file in his hand. "Mac's waiting."

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When he knocked on her door later that night, he wanted to be anywhere else. For several seconds, he didn't hear anything, no movement inside her apartment and he wondered if maybe he'd been wrong in thinking she'd already left the lab. The relief that coursed through him made him feel like a coward. Then he heard the chain sliding and the locks turning.

The door swung open and he was greeted with a tentative smile. "Hey, Danny."

"Hey, Lindsay," he muttered. He forced himself not to grimace as the smile slid off her face.

She stepped back to let him inside, looking worried. Crossing the threshold, he walked into her small entryway, unsure whether he should take off his jacket or not. He must have stood there staring at the hangers for several seconds because she cleared her throat behind him.

"Danny, is everything all right?"

"I gotta talk to you," he said quickly.

That was the ticket: do it fast, like ripping off a bandaid.

She nodded and gestured towards the kitchen. "You want something to drink?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'm good," he muttered absently, fingering his lapels before finally stripping off his jacket and hanging it on one of the pegs in her entryway.

"Okay," she murmured, starting to look nervous.

Oddly, it was Danny that led the way into the living room, and Lindsay who followed his example in sitting on the couch. They'd been sitting for a minute in silence when he shifted. "I'm sorry for yelling at you yesterday."

She pulled her legs under her. "I'm sorry I yelled, too."

"I deserved it."

"Maybe," she said with a shrug. "But you were upset."

He shook his head, but wasn't really denying her words. Licking his lips, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He couldn't seem to find his voice.

Lindsay smiled hesitantly at him. "What's wrong?"

Swallowing, Danny hung his head for a moment. "You know, after you left and you didn't call?"

Lindsay winced, but nodded. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, running a rough hand through his hair. He couldn't bring himself to look at her when he told her.

"Danny," she said on a nervous laugh. "Just tell me."

"Angell and I were working on this really tough case. Guy had killed a woman and her eight year old. We didn't find Abby, the kid, until a day later and it was…it was awful. That night I gave Angell a ride home and she offered me coffee."

"Okay," Lindsay said with a confused frown. As he sat there, trying to think of more words, she suddenly gasped. "Oh."

Jumping from the couch, she was standing halfway across the room before he could blink. "Danny, don't tell me this."

"Lindsay, I—"

Shaking her head, Lindsay tried to smile. "Danny, it's sweet you want to tell me, but it's none of my business."

"What?" Danny straightened, his shoulders becoming rigid.

"I didn't have any hold on you. I never expected you to wait for me."

Contrary annoyance rushed through him, and he roughly rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "You're being damned reasonable about this."

Lindsay frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

He felt like an idiot, putting so much importance on this. He'd only scrounged up the courage to tell her after hearing her turn Emery down. When he heard her admit she had feelings for him. At least, he'd thought that was what she meant at the time. Watching her fidget across the room, it didn't look like it.

Danny stood to face off with her, his arms crossing over his chest. "It's like you don't even care."

"Not care?" She stared at him in shock for a moment and he watched the anger start to boil in her eyes. "Of course I care! Is that what you want to hear? That it hurts?" she asked tightly, her voice getting louder with each word.

All the fight drained out of him. "Maybe," he said on a sigh. "I don't know."

"Well, it does," she snapped, hugging herself tightly. Danny grimaced at the vulnerability in her voice, but she didn't stop. "Danny, I didn't ask you to wait for me to be ready for you, and I never expected you would. I've heard the rumors; I've seen how women look at you, flirt with you. I knew you'd date other women."

She swallowed harshly. "And I knew all that when I told you I wasn't ready."

A weird sense of déjà vu was running through him. They kept running in circles here. "Montana—" he tried, stepping forward.

She shook her head, stopping him in his tracks. "I just didn't think it was going to be someone I'd have to watch you with," she finished, looking anywhere but at him.

"Nothing's going on between us," Danny told her. "Nothing even happened that night. I kissed her, but I couldn't…She wasn't you."

Lindsay's arms tightened around her body. "Then why would you tell me?" Her voice was rising again.

"Because she told me she wanted something to happen," he explained quickly, holding up his hands as if to ward off her wrath. "I just thought you should know that I don't have any interest in her."

Lindsay dropped her arms and blew the wisps of hair off her face. "Danny, you kissed her, you must have some interest," she said, trying to sound calm and reasonable.

The worst part of all of this was that she could actually picture Angell and Danny together. She was beautiful, smart, and knew how to put on makeup. With her innate sexiness, she probably knew how to tie a man in knots. She was, basically, the female Danny. The thing that made Lindsay's stomach twist was that she and Danny made so much less sense than he and Angell.

Danny laughed at bit, as if he couldn't help it. "I really don't. It wasn't like that." Lindsay's brow furrowed, but she kept her gaze on the floor. "You weren't here, Lindsay. You didn't see that kid. It was horrible. I just wanted to forget."

He'd never been good at talking about his feelings, so everything came out sounding stilted. "If you had been here, it would never have happened."

He didn't say it like an accusation, because, really, none of it had been her fault. How could he blame her for not being there for him? Still, it was the simple truth. Had she been in New York, he would have called her. Maybe he would have spent the night on her couch with a beer and a stupid tv movie. More likely, she would have met him at the lab to help him process until they were both too tired to stand. They'd never know exactly what would have happened, but he knew that he would never have seen the inside of Angell's apartment that night.

He couldn't help himself. Just thinking about her being gone made him itch to get closer, to touch her. So he did, moving forward and cupping her cheek in one hand. "You have no idea how sorry I am it happened," he murmured to her.

Lindsay's eyes slid closed and she leaned into his hand, letting out a shaky breath. They stood there, frozen, only connected by the hand on her cheek, but somehow it felt more intimate than a mere touch.

"Danny," she whispered, her eyes opening and locking on the buttons over his heart.

"I know," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. They were quiet for a moment. "I should go."

He was surprised to see her wince, but she hid it quickly. "You work tomorrow?" she asked, leading the way to the door.

"Afternoon shift. You?"

She was cradling his jacket in her hands. "Same." Finally, she looked up and met his gaze.

He searched her eyes, but couldn't find any indication of what she was thinking. So, he eased the jacket out of her hands and slipped it on, all the while gazing down at her. She never even blinked. Then he was in her hallway, wondering why he didn't feel any lighter after telling her.

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When Angell walked into the lab the next day, Lindsay couldn't look at her. Instead, she kept her eyes cast down at the clothing spread out across her table.

"Where you been, Monroe? Haven't seen you all day," Angell said, leaning over the table for a second, then pulling back to rest a hip against the counter behind Lindsay.

"Around. Running trace mostly."

Angell was quiet for a minute and Lindsay felt her eyes like lasers on the back of her head. "Something wrong?"

"Nope. Everything's peachy." Knowing she'd given herself away, Lindsay's shoulders drooped and she sighed.

"Seriously? Peachy?" Angell asked wryly as Lindsay turned to face her. "Even you can lie better than that, Monroe."

Lindsay tried to think of a lie that would explain her behavior then gave up. She hated lying, and she wasn't good at it anyway. "Danny told me he kissed you."

It was a little surprising to see Angell's cheeks grow red at the words. Glancing away again, Lindsay rubbed her forehead. "I know it doesn't really matter and it's none of my business, but I can't help it."

"You're jealous," Angell said as the red staining her face faded a bit. "It's the usual reaction, I'm sure."

Lindsay let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Yeah."

"You know it didn't mean anything, right?"

The worry in Angell's voice forced Lindsay's gaze back to the figure across from her. Suddenly, she felt horrible for having avoided the other woman all day. "I know."

"Good. So, go kiss him."

"I can't do that," Lindsay protested, wide eyes flying back to Angell's.

"Why the hell not?" the other woman asked, tossing a hand in the air. "You want him, he wants you, what's to think about?"

"It's not that—"

"Lindsay, the man turned down a completely string-free one night stand for you. And the entire precinct knows he has no aversion to those." When Lindsay squeezed her eyes shut, Angell sighed again. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

"Don't worry about it. It's none of my business who Danny does or does not sleep with." Her voice was mechanical and she wondered if she'd ever feel more comfortable saying it. Or feel more comfortable with Danny's sexual past.

"Bull shit," Angell almost yelled at her. "Look, I'm sorry, Lindsay, but I don't get it. The man has been pining after you for almost a year. And you obviously feel the same way. So, why are you doing this?"

"Because I can't be with him right now," Lindsay burst out, ripping her gloves off and throwing them in the trash. "If I could, I would be, Jennifer, but I can't."

"Why not?" Angell insisted as Lindsay collapsed against the table next to her.

"I have to deal with things on my own right now."

"Isn't that something boyfriends are supposed to help with? I mean, call me crazy—"

Lindsay shook her head fiercely. "If I let him make this better for me, I'm afraid that…" She paused to swallow. "I'm afraid that when he leaves, I won't be strong enough on my own. And everything will get even worse."

Straightening a little, Angell lowered her voice. "When?" Lindsay winced and looked away, arms crossed tightly over her stomach. "The man adores you, why would he leave?"

Lindsay shrugged. "I don't know. Why do men ever leave?"

Brow furrowed, Angell kicked idly at the floor of the lab. "Danny knows all of this?"

"He knows that I need to work through some issues and he knows what they are. That's why he's not pushing."

"I was wondering about that," Angell murmured. "He's not the type to sit back and watch. He goes after what he wants."

"Oh, he went after me," Lindsay agreed in a more normal voice. "And I stood him up."

"Wait, what?" Angell asked, laughing incredulously. "Messer got stood up on a date? Classic."

"It's not funny," Lindsay told her irritably. "I still feel like a jerk."

"Oh, you should," Angell assured her. "But I didn't think there was a woman in the world that would stand up the dating king."

Dropping her head into her hands, Lindsay groaned dramatically. Angell just chuckled a bit more, still marveling over the unexpected information. Finally, when Lindsay's head didn't emerge, Angell calmed herself.

"Linds, if he didn't give up on you after that, why would he do it now?"

"I still have mystery right now," Lindsay mumbled through her hands. "If we date, that's gone."

"Honey, you have very little mystery left if you've been working with him for two years."

Two brown eyes glared up at Angell. "I have mystery."

"Sure, sure," the detective said soothingly. "Had dinner yet?"

"No," Lindsay answered, surprised by the topic change.

"Good. Let's grab something. My treat."

"What? I can't let you—"

"Hey, least I could do for propositioning the love of your life."

Lindsay's eyes fell shut, and she groaned as she let Angell tow her out of the lab and down the hall. "I can't believe you just told me that."

Angell smiled wickedly. "Honesty is the best policy, my friend."

Shaking her head in grudging amusement, Lindsay glanced to the side and saw Danny coming down the hallway. She'd been avoiding him, too, and she knew the moment he spotted her. His face froze as he continued down the hall towards her until she smiled. Then, his eyes cleared and a smile curved his lips.

Their gazes stayed locked until he turned the corner and then Lindsay looked down, breathing hard.

"You should hurry up with those issues," Angell murmured as they stepped onto the elevator.

"Yeah."

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Lindsay felt an incredible sense of relief as she stripped off her work clothes. Her case with Emery was finally over, and the next day of work no longer promised immense discomfort. It also meant she could spend some time on the chores that had been piling up for the last week or so.

Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, Lindsay moved into the kitchen, wincing at the stacks of dishes in the sink. She knew where to start, at least. Twenty minutes later, she was soaked to her elbows and nowhere near finished. But if she wanted to cook anything at all, she'd have to finish cleaning all her pots.

The sudden buzzing of her intercom made Linsday jump about a mile, nearly dropping the glass she'd been holding. Carefully setting it back in the sink, she wiped her hands on her ratty old cotton shorts and hurried into the small entryway.

"Who is it?" she asked, pressing the button.

"Hey, Montana. Buzz me up?"

Surprise had her pausing for a second then she shook herself and held the buzzer down. She hadn't seen Danny in days; their shifts hadn't crossed at all. And she'd been so wrapped up in her case she hadn't even set foot out of the lab for more than a trip to the break room in almost a week.

Waiting at the front door for his knock, she gasped and froze in horror as she realized what she was wearing. Running into the bedroom, she shimmied out of her shorts and the practically see-through tank top she'd donned for chores.

She was still wiggling into a pair of jeans when she heard him knocking. Buttoning the pants, she grabbed the first shirt she saw in her drawer and whipped it over her head as she jogged back towards the door.

Flinging it open, she was greeted by the sight of Danny and a very large, delicious smelling pizza box. "Hi," she said, staring at the pizza box confusedly.

"Hey." He waited a beat then added, "You gonna let me in?"

"Oh, sure. Sorry."

She stepped back and he moved past her into the apartment. As she closed and locked the door, she heard him head to the living room.

He was setting the pizza on the coffee table when she caught up with him. Smiling at her, he somehow produced a DVD out of seemingly thin air. "All right, Montana, let the pizza tour begin."

She laughed and stepped up next to him to peer down at the box. "Pizza my heart?" she read.

"With almost everything. I know how you feel about anchovies, which, by the way, is a strange aversion for someone who eats wasps."

"Ate," she corrected, watching him fiddle with her DVD player. "One time."

He grinned at her over his shoulder, and she shook her head. Feeling flustered at having been caught staring, she quickly made her way into the kitchen, coming back out with plates, napkins and beer as he pressed play.

Handing him a bottle, she settled on the couch with a suitable distance between them. Danny took a swig before flipping open the top of the pizza box. She watched warily as he expertly wound the extra cheese around the slice. When he handed it to her, she hurriedly held out a plate and he stared at it.

"A plate?" he asked dryly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Food. Plate. Do the math."

"No. Put the plate down. Move away from the plate." He indicated the table with his chin.

Picking up a napkin instead, she sighed. "I happen to like plates."

"Must be a country thing. Rule number one of pizza night: No plates."

Laughing quietly, she turned to the tv and cocked her head to the side. "What are we watching?"

"_Hoosiers_."

She stopped in mid-bite. "What?"

"Hey, you made me watch that math chick flick," he said warningly, pointing a finger at her.

"_Proof_ is not a chick flick. And you picked it out," she reminded him, her voice more defensive than she would have liked.

"Least of the evils."

She choked back a laugh as the credits started and finally brought the pizza to her lips. Pure, pizza joy suffused her mouth and she moaned unconsciously.

Hearing Danny snicker, she glanced to her left and saw him watching her with a grin. "That good, huh?"

She swallowed quickly. "Oh my God," she told him seriously.

He laughed and nodded. "Not the best, though."

"There's something better than this?" she asked incredulously.

Glittering eyes found hers for a long minute then turned back to the screen. A strange fuzziness settled over her brain. She spent the next few minutes wondering what they'd been talking about.

By the time the movie ended, they'd polished off the large pizza and several bottles of beer. Lindsay felt so content with her life, she wanted to curl up against Danny and wrap her arms around him. Instead, she pressed herself deeper into her corner of the couch and folded her legs under her.

Danny pushed himself up and turned off the tv. "Whaddya think, Montana?"

"I prefer chick flicks," she said primly.

He tried to glare at her, but she smiled widely and he couldn't help but chuckle. "All right, all right."

She had to stifle a sigh when he reached for his jacket, hanging on the back of the couch. Swallowing, she stood to walk him out. She wanted to ask him to stay, but her mouth wouldn't work, which was good, she tried to convince herself.

"Next time, Mama Leona's," he said gravely.

Next time. Excitement coursed through her at the words. She tried to hide it as Danny slid his arms through the sleeves on his leather jacket. "Mama Leona's?"

"Round the corner from my place. Hole in the wall."

"What happened to Bernie's?" she asked as he lingered, his hand on the doorknob.

"Changed my mind. I think you need to work up to that level."

As she rolled her eyes, he smirked and pulled her into a hug, so casually it made her breath catch in her throat. She squeezed him back gently and almost sighed when he pulled away.

Winking at her, he opened the door and slipped through it. "See ya, Montana."

Her heart was beating hard against her breast bone, so she placed a hand over it, trying to calm it down. Had she just been on a date with Danny? It had felt like a date there at the end. But surely a date implied going out somewhere. Right?

She could still smell his cologne lingering on the couch as she cleaned up. She had a sinking suspicion that Danny was getting antsy. Because it had definitely felt like a date.

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Ashley Booth: As one of the smaller people in the world, I, too, have become the butt of many a height-based joke. But I felt vindicated when I watched my friend walk into a low hanging chandelier (he wasn't hurt, so I could laugh). Being small definitely has its perks.

HillHaperHOT: Thanks for reviewing! Lindsay definitely needed some more friends, especially now that she's trying to get over everything that's happened. And I think Angell is going to be a good foil.

scoob2222: I'll try to keep posting in a timely fashion. We're only about halfway done.

berta101: Yay! I'm glad you're liking the story! Makes me happy. :-)

chili-peppers: I'm having so much fun with the A/L goodness! It's about to become really important how close they are, too, so I'm glad it's coming across believably.

specialfrog: You were right, Danny has partially broken free. Let's see where he goes with it now. Angell and Lindsay are becoming closer and more comfortable with each other, which I hope came across in this chapter. Their friendship is important for Lindsay, especially since the Danny-awkwardness between them is now gone.

The Little Corinthian: I usually shudder when she's on the show, too! I never liked her character much. I didn't exactly hate her, but…No love was lost on her. :-p I like how she's Lindsay's voice of reason when it comes to Danny. Unfortunately, Pretty Danny didn't make an appearance here. I think he learned his lesson the last time and will only break out Danny the Pitbull in desperate situations. Emery might make another appearance soon, though, not sure yet.

qt4good: Girl talk is an essential part of any shopping experience. And watching Lindsay and Angell bond is very fun for me.

Devilla: I think Hawkes just forsaw the awkwardness and/or anger that would arise when Danny found out about Emery. The man is sort of caught in the middle when he's working cases with one or both of them. And Emery did jumpstart Danny, or, I guess, Lindsay's reaction did. Maybe both.

Trixie7: In addition to the age gap between them, I thought there might be a weird dynamic between Stella and Lindsay because Stella is one of her bosses. With Jen, Lindsay doesn't feel the need to hold back info on Danny or anything else, even if it could potentially affect her job. (shrugs) But that's just what I was thinking when I chose Angell. I think Danny is very empathetic, so he knows how much it would hurt Lindsay to find out. Unfortunately, the conversation made her insecurities resurface.

serenity2bliss: Thank you so much for the encouraging words! I'm not sure how much more we'll see of Emery. He might pop up a couple more times, though I'm not really all that taken with him myself. He's a little smarmy. :-p It might be fun to see what happens when we shove Emery and Danny together…an explosion probably.

messermonroe: Funny thing-When I first started writing Jen in as a friend interest for Lindsay, I was feeling a little uncomfortable because of the kiss. So I wrote this little side piece where I shoved Jen towards someone else. Haha. Maybe I'll post it or include in the storyline somehow.

Tenley: I love that Jen is becoming such an expert on Lindsay so quickly. I think it has to do with the fact that she is so much like Danny; I think it makes Lindsay more comfortable around her. Emery is…ew. I made him, but I don't like him. Everyone knows about Lindsay and Danny, dammit. What's the fool doing?

hurricanerosie: Hehe. I can assure you, Angell has no ulterior motives. She likes Lindsay way too much to do anything that would hurt her. Hopefully that will become clear over the next few chapters.

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A.N. We're almost to the point in the story where I will no longer have chapters finished, just bare bones. So updates might slow down a bit, but I'm writing as fast as I can, guys!


	8. Chapter 8

A.N. I own nothing. Except the stupid waitress.

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Lindsay watched in irritation as Danny smirked at the giggling waitress. She knew Jen was talking to her, but she couldn't concentrate with him sitting less than six feet away, flirting with a cocktail waitress in a glittery tube top.

"Do you think she inflates them every morning?" Angell asked casually.

Unable to pull her eyes away from the scene in front of her to glance at her friend, Lindsay tried in vain to force her gaze down to her beer. "It's definitely not natural."

"They defy gravity," Angell agreed, taking a swig of her beer. She waited a beat, then added, "If you don't want him flirting with her, you're gonna have to keep him occupied."

Rolling her eyes, Lindsay nodded. "So you've said. A dozen times." She sighed and finally managed to look at Jen. "It's just his way of interacting with women anyway," she tried to remind herself.

"Exactly. It doesn't mean anything. He's just bored. Keep him from getting bored, he won't chat with the waitress."

"I shouldn't have to distract him so he won't flirt with other women," Lindsay hissed under her breath. Flack was sitting right there, why wasn't the slutty waitress leaning over him, too?

Jen blinked at her. "But you just said…Nevermind. Technically, you won't date him so he can flirt with whoever he wants."

When Lindsay grimaced, Jen sighed. "Look, the man wants you. Just the way he looks at you makes anyone else in the room hot, so don't tell me you haven't noticed. Go over there and…" She paused and frowned. "Well, that's inconvenient."

Lindsay's head whirled back to the tableau, and she watched in horror as the waitress slipped Danny a piece of paper. Casually, he stuck it in his pocket and smiled at the girl as she walked away.

"Did you just see that?" Lindsay murmured.

"Unfortunately, yes." Lindsay felt her face crumple and squeezed her eyes shut. Angell's voice turned tough. "You are not going to cry, Monroe. Do you hear me? That didn't mean anything."

"How do you know that?" Lindsay wailed quietly, her eyes opening to lock on Jen's face.

There was a pause as Jen's expression shifted to amusement. "Because he just looked over here to see if you were watching."

Angell's smug tone had Lindsay staring at her in disbelief. "You're kidding."

"Nope," the detective crowed happily, keeping her eyes on Lindsay's face. "Apparently, he's not above trying to make you jealous."

"But that's…mean," Lindsay protested. "Danny's not mean."

"No, he's desperate. Besides, you're an easy target."

"Okay, now you're being mean." Going back to her beer, Lindsay started when Angell grabbed her knee under the table.

"He's going up to the bar. Follow him," Angell hissed, pushing Lindsay's shoulder.

"Are we in high school?" Lindsay asked grouchily, but slid from the booth anyway. Taking a deep breath, she found Danny's back in the group at the bar and started towards him.

Danny smiled as he felt Lindsay slide onto the stool next to him. "Montana."

"Messer," she replied, voice calm.

She'd definitely seen the whole thing. Still not looking at her, he placed one foot on the rail and leaned forward. "What can I do for ya?"

He knew he was being cruel, letting her think the waitress had any of his attention, but he was just so enjoying turning the tables. And she was so calm about it that he wanted to ruffle her feathers, maybe tempt her into doing something about it.

He was a Neanderthal, but he could live with that.

"Nothing," she replied smoothly. "Just want a drink."

"Better get comfortable," he told her. "It's gonna take awhile."

"So I see." Her head swiveled to follow the bartender as he passed by them again.

"Whatcha gettin?"

He wasn't sure why he asked; he just wanted to keep her talking. The plan seemed to backfire though, because she didn't answer for a long time. Finally, he looked over and found her gazing at him.

"What do you think I'm getting?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes never left his as a small smile curled her lips.

He nearly sighed in defeat. Giving in—how could he resist when she was willingly flirting with him—he eased closer to her. "I don't know, Miss Monroe. You tend to surprise me."

Her smile spread and her eyes dropped to her lap. "Good," she said simply, eyes on her hands. "I wouldn't want to be predictable."

"No worries there," he assured her, his voice a low murmur.

Her eyes flicked up again to his and they stared for what felt like an eternity. Danny watched the confidence drain from her expression, and she nervously licked her lips.

Following her tongue's path, he knew his eyes were darkening. He felt himself lean infinitesimally closer, and he heard her breath catch. But, for once, she wasn't moving away.

Suddenly unsure, he stopped. He wasn't supposed to be seducing her, he reminded himself. She'd tell him when she was ready. Until then, he had to back it off or risk losing her and the ground they'd gained.

Too bad his body wasn't listening.

"What can I get you two?"

They jerked apart and turned to the bartender with warm faces. Danny recovered first and cleared his throat. "Two Red Tail ales and…" he trailed off, pointing to Lindsay.

"Shot of tequila," she told the bartender.

Danny blinked and turned back with a grim expression. "Make that two."

The bartender moved away, expression carefully neutral. Danny ran a hand through his hair as he willed his heart to stop racing in his chest.

"Are you going to call her?" Linsday asked, refusing to look at him.

Closing his eyes, Danny wished he'd played this entire night differently. "No."

"Okay."

"I gave the number to Flack," he said, as if this somehow excused it.

"Okay," she repeated and this time he managed to keep his mouth shut.

He opened his eyes as the bartender set two beers and two shots on the bar. Tossing down a couple bills, Danny turned to her as Lindsay picked up the shaker. The gleam was back, the one that warned him she was feeling feisty.

She kept her eyes on his as she licked her hand and shook salt onto the wet spot. He swallowed convulsively, eyes locked on her mouth as she handed him the salt. He mirrored her movements, and when her eyes darkened and dilated, he almost tossed the shaker aside to take her there in the bar.

Ironic how he'd fallen for the one woman who could destroy the control he prided himself on.

They both lifted the shot glasses and, smoldering gazes fixed on each other, licked their hands again before downing the burning liquid. Danny watched as she sucked a lime between her lips and dropped it in her glass.

Picking up another one, she offered it to him, but he just shook his head. A slow smile spread across his face as redness crept up her neck to her cheeks. Sliding off the stool, she backed a few inches away from the bar.

"Jen's waiting," she murmured, glancing at him and then away. "I should get back."

"Montana."

She paused, turned half away from him, and tilted her head to the side questioningly. He smiled seductively and leaned towards her. "Anytime you wanna do shots, you just let me know."

Hearing her breath catch, he felt triumphant until she lowered her head and glanced at him from under her lashes. "Ditto."

Then she turned and walked away, leaving him with his stomach tied in knots and his hands clenched around beer bottles.

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"Bernie's?" she asked, pointing at the pizza box. She let Danny nudge her aside and move through her apartment to the living room.

She'd been hoping he'd show up tonight. It had been a long week and she really needed this.

"Nope. Pizza Upon Hudson."

She watched as he slid the box onto the table and pulled out a DVD. _Hoosiers_, _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_ and now…was that _Fantastic Four_?

"No. No way am I watching that," she told him almost angrily, pointing at the plastic box in his hand.

He glanced down at the offending object and frowned. "What's wrong with _Fantastic_ _Four_?"

"It was worse than _XMen_ three, that's what's wrong with it. Besides," she said, her hands finding her hips. "It's my turn to pick."

"Whoa, who said anything about taking turns?" he asked, tossing the DVD onto the couch and crossing his arms over his chest.

"You've shown up here three times with your movies. It's time for my movies."

He glared at her. "No chick flicks."

"Fine, no chick flicks," she agreed, dropping her arms and moving to the bookshelf. She immediately pulled out a DVD and popped it open. "Paper towels are in the kitchen."

She heard the sound of denim against denim as he started towards the kitchen. She wondered if she'd ever noticed the sounds a man made when he moved before; she was so hypersensitive with Danny. Just having him look at her made her feel like she was melting. Sometimes she was sure that if he touched her, she'd explode.

After several drinks a couple of nights before, Lindsay had asked Jen if she thought that was possible. Jen had been unable to answer, she was laughing so hard.

She knew where he was with every moment, as if she could feel the air he displaced when he moved. So, when she turned around to find him sitting in a corner of her couch, she wasn't surprised. But the sight of him setting a folded napkin on the table for her made her chest warm.

Usually, they sat on opposite ends of the couch, each with their own corner, as if a barrier had been placed in the middle of the couch. This time, she plopped herself down on the middle cushion, little more than a foot away from him. He didn't say anything as he flipped back the top of the pizza box, but she knew he'd noticed the change.

"What are we watching?" he asked, handing her a slice.

"Boondock Saints."

"Boondock Saints," he repeated, pausing in his quest for a slice of his own.

"Yeah." Taking a bite, she suppressed the moan of satisfaction. The man really did know his pizza places. "Is that a problem?"

He raised an eyebrow at her but didn't answer. She couldn't figure out what he was thinking. His face was so impassive it made her nervous.

"What? You'd prefer The Godfather?" she asked dryly, trying to joke her way out of the situation.

"They're vigilantes. I do not, for one second, believe you condone that kind of behavior," he said, pointing at the opening sequence playing on her tv.

"Just because I like the movie doesn't mean I condone their behavior. It's an interesting morality question. How far is too far?"

"They're vigilantes," he repeated, his voice growing louder.

Picking up the other DVD from her coffee table, she shook the box at him. "So are the Fantastic Four." When he scoffed, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "They're the definition of vigilantes, Danny."

"They don't kill people, Lindsay."

The use of her given name was the final clue. "Why are you so upset by this?"

"I'm not upset," he snapped, closing the lid to the pizza with a bit more force than usual. "I just don't see how you could enjoy this sort of thing."

She studied him for a moment before reaching over to press pause on the remote. "I don't."

He shook his head and took a bite of his pizza. "We'll watch something else," she murmured, knowing she wouldn't get anything else out of him.

He started to speak, but she just smiled gently and stood to go to her bookcase. "How about XMen since you're in a comic book mood?"

"I never read comic books," he said defensively. The edge was still in his voice, but she ignored it.

"Of course you didn't," she agreed soothingly. "Only a nerd would read comic books."

She heard him choke slightly and smiled triumphantly at the row of movie spines. Sliding the new DVD out of the pack, she opened the player and switched the disks.

It wasn't until four slices of pizza later that Rogue climbed into Wolverine's car and Danny finally relaxed beside her.

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"He freaked out?" Angell whispered, leaning closer to her.

"Yeah, it was weird," Lindsay muttered, stirring her coffee. "I mean, I've seen him upset before, but…this was different."

"What do you mean?"

Lindsay bit her lip and tried to straighten it out in her mind. "I've seen him mad. Hell, he's been mad at me and made it known quite loudly, I assure you. This…" She paused. "He wasn't angry. It was more like…It felt like he was panicking."

Jen blinked at her. "Panicking? Over a movie?"

"Oh, it definitely wasn't about the movie. It was about the fact that I'd chosen the movie," Lindsay told her. "I just can't figure out why."

Glancing around the coffee shop—chosen for this conversation by the fact that it was six blocks away from the precinct and, therefore, too far for most cops to frequent—Jen leaned back in her seat and frowned. "I don't get it. Why do you think that's what freaked him out?"

"It was the way he said it," Lindsay explained. "He told me that he didn't think I'd enjoy that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" Jen asked, raising her coffee to her lips.

"I think he meant the violence. The killing. And he's right, I don't. I hate it. I mean, after what happened…" She stopped and bit her lip.

Freezing, Jen stared at her. The look on her face told Lindsay that a light bulb had gone off in Jen's mind and she wondered how much Jen had guessed already. "What happened?" Jen repeated questioningly.

"That's another story. A long one. I'll tell you some time, but not today, okay?" Lindsay controlled a wince at the vulnerable note in her voice.

"All right. So, you hate violence," Jen prompted, rerouting the conversation.

"I just…I really do like the moral question it poses. It's a good movie. I usually fast forward through the shootings," Lindsay muttered, her eyes glued to the table. "But I thought that Danny would like it. He's a guy. Don't guys like that sort of thing?"

Jen shrugged. "Most of 'em."

The women were silent for a few minutes, sipping their coffee contemplatively. Lindsay could feel Jen eyeing her and waited for the other woman to speak.

"Do you think it could have something to do with his family?"

Lowering her eyes to the table to hide the fact that she had, Lindsay swallowed. "I don't know."

"You've heard the rumors, though, right?" Jen asked hesitantly.

"I've heard them." Lindsay glanced up as someone came in the coffee shop and watched the man move towards the counter. Only once he started ordering did her eyes swing back to Jen's.

"Maybe he doesn't like movies about the mafia."

Nodding, Lindsay glanced at the rapidly cooling coffee in her cup and sighed. It was entirely unappealing. Leaning back, she tossed it in the trash behind her and ran a hand through her curls.

"I have no idea what to think."

"Did you ask him about it?"

"Danny doesn't respond well to questions," Lindsay said wryly. "Not when he's upset about something. I mean, in general, he'll answer anything. But when he's upset, it's like trying to interrogate a brick wall."

"Good luck with that then," Jen told her, draining her own cup. Glancing at her watch, she pushed back her chair and Lindsay followed suit. "You working with him today?"

"No. He's going to be out in the field most of the day."

"Good. You get to refine your questioning strategy then."

Lindsay pulled a face. "I feel weird planning an ambush on Danny."

Shoving her hands in her pockets, Jen shrugged complacently. "The way I see it, you have two options. Either talk to him about it and be uncomfortable doing it, but make some progress. Or try to ignore it and have it hanging over your head."

Lindsay sighed as they walked down the sidewalk. After a minute of companionable silence, Jen added, "And look how well that last one's been working for you so far."

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Danny wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist. What were the odds of a bullet killing a thermostat? The DB probably wouldn't appreciate the joke, but, then, neither did Danny.

"Goddamn," he muttered, starting to unbutton his work shirt. He definitely needed a shower.

The door swung open behind him and he knew without looking it was Lindsay. Of course it was Lindsay. She would, of course, show up when he stank to high heaven. But she didn't seem to notice as she walked up to him.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"Hey. How's it going?" he said, lightly mocking her. She smiled nervously and tucked a curl behind her ear. He frowned and finally answered her question. "Uh, tonight. Nothing. Why?"

"I want to talk to you."

She wouldn't quite meet his eyes and he stifled a groan. "About last night," he said tonelessly, looking away.

"I don't really want to talk about it," he told her, rubbing his forehead.

"Danny—"

"One day, I'll tell you all about it, Montana, but not today, all right? It's long, it's complicated…"

"It has to do with your family?" she finished gently.

He winced, quickly covering by turning and finishing with his shirt. Taking it off, he swallowed and shrugged.

"All right." She paused for a moment then she folded her arms across her chest. "I demand a do-over."

"A…what?" he questioned, staring at her as he reached for the hem of his undershirt.

"A do-over. You vetoed my movie. Therefore, I get to pick again."

He frowned at her, dropping the hem so he could mirror her combative stance. "How does that work? You picked _XMen_."

"Because you wanted to watch it," she argued, as if it all made perfect sense. While he floundered for an answer, she calmly continued. "Tonight, we're watching my pick. No chick flicks, I promise."

He eyed her. "What's the catch?"

His heart felt a bit funny when she smiled widely at him. "You bring the pizza. And it better be Bernie's."

"Deal," he murmured, his shoulders loosening. He couldn't help the goofy smile that spread across his face as she swung back out of the locker room.

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"Are you sure?" Angell asked. "You're sure it's Romero's print on the murder weapon?"

It had been an exhausting case; even Lindsay was feeling a bit ragged after the last couple of days. But the look on Jen's face was more heartbroken than tired and Lindsay was a little worried.

"Fingerprints don't lie," Lindsay reminded her. "Should we go pick him up?"

"Yeah. I'll call Hawkes, tell him to meet us there." Angell pulled out her phone and dialed, stepping a few paces away.

Lindsay eyed her friend's back as she stripped off her gloves and lab coat, listening as Jen gave Hawkes the address. Patiently, Lindsay waited until they'd left the lab, taken the elevator down to the garage and were safely ensconced in the car before she asked the question.

"What's wrong?"

Running a rough hand through her hair, Angell slid the phone back in her pocket. "I pulled Romero in for questioning two years ago on a drug case that fell through."

Lindsay winced as she pulled out of the garage. "Why didn't it stick?"

"We didn't get anything," Angell admitted, staring out the window. "We knew he'd been selling the drugs, even had a witness who was willing to testify, but he still got off because we couldn't find the evidence."

"Jen, if the evidence wasn't there—"

"If I'd just looked harder. It had to have been there, Linds. The guy is dirty. There had to have been something."

"This isn't your fault," Lindsay told her firmly. "There was nothing you could do back then."

"Yeah," Jen muttered, turning back to the window and falling silent.

Helpless, Lindsay bit her lip and concentrated on getting them through New York's traffic in one piece. When they pulled up in front of Romero's crappy building, Jen opened her door and climbed out.

Slamming her own door shut and joining Angell on the sidewalk, Lindsay cleared her throat. "Jen, we need to wait for Hawkes."

Angell ignored her and took the front steps two at a time. Groaning, Lindsay followed her just in time to catch the door before it clicked shut. Jen didn't say another word until they were standing outside Vincent Romero's door.

"NYPD," she called loudly through the wood. "Open up."

The lock clicked and the door swung open. A man who'd obviously been handsome at one point in his life before the meth had taken him hostage, stood in the open doorway, his eyes shifting restlessly. "Whaddya want?"

"We need to talk to you. Can we come in?" Angell asked sweetly, pushing him out of the way.

He glared down at Lindsay as she passed, but the anxiety in his eyes wasn't from their presence. He was so strung out, he probably didn't even know what was going on.

Lindsay stifled a sigh and tried to get Jen's attention. The other detective was herding Romero back into the living room, putting herself between him and the door. Stepping up next to her, Lindsay felt a sense of dread filling her.

"Where were you last night, Vincent?" Angell asked, her words rough as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Where was Hawkes? He was always such a calming influence.

"Don't know what you're talking about," the junkie told her, eyes darting towards the windows.

Lindsay knew she'd been somewhat sheltered in the lab in Montana, and she'd never had to deal with a junkie on a case before. Instinctive fear coursed through her veins, making her adrenaline pump and her palms sweat. Abruptly, she wished she'd brought Danny with them. Somehow, she was sure he would have known what to do.

"Really? Cuz your fingerprint on the candlestick that killed Gloria Bryce tells us you know exactly what we're talking about."

"Didn't do nothing," he muttered, his body taking on a fine trembling.

Lindsay watched a bead of sweat roll down his temple. "Jen," she murmured, eyes locked on the man across the room.

"Come on, Vincent. We know better than that," Angell sneered, dropping her arms to rest a hand on her hip.

It happened very fast after that. From thin air, a gun appeared in Vincent's hand and he was shouting things, strange things that didn't make any sense.

Lindsay felt her body freeze and time seemed to slow for a second as Jen moved her hands upward and away from her gun. "Vincent, you might want to put that away."

"You're not taking me to them!"

"Put it away, and we'll forget it happened," Jen said soothingly, reaching a hand forward.

"No! They're everywhere! And you're…" His eyes widened until Lindsay could swear she saw the curve of his eyeball. "You're one of them," he finished in a whisper.

Maybe she'd been wrong about the meth. Maybe he was just crazy.

"I need it," he said. When they didn't move, he shrieked, "Give it to me!"

"I don't have any," Jen told him, hands still in the air.

"You're lying. Everybody lies," he whimpered, the gun shaking as he trembled.

That's when they heard Hawkes's voice in the hallway, speaking on the phone to someone. Panic spread across Romero's already terrified expression, and Lindsay felt her muscles clench with horror as the finger on the trigger tightened. She acted without thinking.

Shoving roughly to the right, she pushed Jen out of the way as the gun went off in his hand. Even though she'd been prepared for it, the searing pain in her side caught her by surprise as she went down.

The only thought that registered as she hit the floor was that being shot was more painful than she remembered. She could see the floor rushing up to meet her but couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she hit it. The white-hot heat in her stomach eclipsed anything else she might have felt from the harsh landing.

Strangely detached from the situation, she told herself she should be grateful for small blessings.

When the buzzing in her ears faded a bit, she heard Hawkes shouting and Angell had her gun out, she could see in glimpses. But she couldn't quite move her head, so she let her eyes fall shut. Everything was confused, nothing more than a blur of noise.

"Officer down. Repeat officer down."

She heard Angell say something about a second GSW, but she wasn't paying much attention anymore. The pain had subsided and she was concentrating on the bone-chilling cold radiating out from her spine.

"Lindsay," she heard.

Forcing her eyes open, she saw Angell hovering over her. "Hawkes said you need to keep your eyes open."

She could see Angell's hand stroking her head and knew it should bother her that she couldn't feel it. But, frankly, it didn't, so she ignored the voice telling her it should.

Time seemed to go by very slowly after that. Each blink felt like a hundred minutes, and Jen just kept repeating, "Don't close your eyes."

When the men arrived, Lindsay regarded them languidly from her position on the floor. One of them pushed Jen out of the way and Lindsay frowned inwardly. Saying something to the men, Jen held up two bright red bundles, but she was too far away now, and Lindsay couldn't hear anything.

Suddenly, they were moving her, a rushing filled her ears, she felt one moment of jarring pain and then nothing at all.

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Disclaimer: No, Lindsay is not channeling Marissa from The OC. She will not become a Tragedy Magnet.

qt4good: Danny is a brave man. I'm pretty sure he realized that he could have lost her during that confession due to her intimacy issues alone. Also, Lindsay and Jen have a very nice little bond going on; I don't think much would keep them apart at this point, and it's a conscious decision on their parts not to let these things bother them. It has to be said: Freaking Emery. What a jerk.

Tenley: I think that confession brought Lindsay to a deeper…not really understanding but more of an acceptance about her relationship with Danny. At the end there, she obviously didn't want him to leave. Once again, freaking Emery. Though maybe Danny should be thanking him, since it was Lindsay telling him off that spurred Danny into action.

mercy4vr: I think my Angell is, not completely only mostly, OOC, but I've come to terms with that. I've even found a bit of peace. (I don't really like the character on the show…but that might have had something to do with certain spoilers while she was on…)

danaa: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I hope you decide to keep reading! Yes, jealous Danny is uber adorable. But then again, so are most of Danny's incarnations. :-p

specialfrog: I've got plans for Angell, don't you worry. I think I'm going to work in another story arc for her based on a little oneshot I wrote awhile back. Lindsay does feed off Danny, I think you're right on there. With this little twist, we'll have to see where that puts them.

Lauren: Poor Danny. He takes action, they make progress and then Lindsay jumps in front of a bullet to save Jen. But don't worry, I know I've said this before but, the story's only half done!

Wentzy: This one really was a cliffhanger. :-p Well, kinda anyway. I hope you're still liking the story!

hurricanrosie: I think they're going crazy, too, which might explain Lindsay jumping in front of a bullet. No, no, jk. But the sexual tension is obviously getting to them if that bar scene is any indication.

messermonroe: Didn't mean to make you squirm with the castration reference. :-p Sorry. I think I will include the plot from the one shot about Angell, so let the pushing begin! Well, soon anyway. And, prepare yourself, because I have so many ideas running around in my head that this story might end up verging on the epic, length-wise.

Kavi Leighanna: I love Angell's role, too. I know I've said that before, but I really do love her character. She's exactly what serious Lindsay needs as a wake up call. And Lindsay seems to be listening, which is good. Danny making all of the effort is not going to continue, though. I don't think I could forgive Lindsay if she forced him into that position.

chili-peppers: Jealous Danny is as sexy as angry Danny, which might be because jealousy makes him angry. Hmm…something to ponder…Lindsay definitely has the better shut downs for men. Sigh. I wish I was her level of cool.

guitar73girl: Oh, Danny definitely deserves his girl. And he will get her! She just…has to get out of the hospital bed first. Sorry. More D/L goodness is on the horizon!

The Little Corinthian: As I told chili-peppers, I wish I was Lindsay's level of cool. She inspires the greatest lines while cutting men off at the knees. I'm so glad you mentioned there's a new episode next week. I had no idea! I'm not watching the reruns since I own the box sets, so I missed the preview. Dagnabbit!

oddie33325: They will be getting even cuter as time goes on. I've written the first scene after Lindsay wakes up already and there's this really sweet D/L moment. More D/L soon!

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A.N. Lindsay will be out of the hospital soon. It is not the purpose of this incident to draw out the story ad infinitum, don't worry.


	9. Chapter 9

A.N. We're officially to the chapters that I haven't finished yet. I have a couple very rough drafts and, obviously, the ultimate skeleton in my head, but no finished products. So, unfortunately, updates will be a little harder to do daily. :-(

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Unable to bring themselves to sit down, everyone stood frozen in the waiting room. The sight of an EMT straddling Lindsay's chest as they'd blazed up to the hospital hung over them in the small space. Her heart had started again soon after, but the shadow of death lingered, making them all feel claustrophobic.

The doctor had very briefly outlined the surgery he claimed was necessary to repair the damage, and Hawkes had nodded as if he understood the words. Mac even threw a few questions in, but everyone else remained silent.

And after the doctor disappeared to go cut Lindsay open, Hawkes had tried to explain more thoroughly. All Danny could concentrate on was the fact that she'd lost too much blood. That she'd been clinically dead on arrival to the hospital. His brain shut down after that and nothing else got through.

So, he'd stood staring out the window for five hours. He didn't notice when Stella and Hawkes left to process the scene, or that Angell was hugging herself in a corner. He distantly registered it when Flack pressed a hand to his shoulder briefly but Danny never turned to him, just stared blindly into the rapidly darkening city.

When the doctor walked back in, Danny noticed the movement in the reflection off the window. Whirling, he crossed the room to stand next to Mac, bracing his feet apart and crossing his arms over his chest.

"The surgery went well," the doctor assured them, crumpling his surgical cap in his hands. "Miraculously, none of her organs were touched. We removed the bullet and repaired the damage."

He paused and Danny tensed against the fear. "The variable is the blood loss she suffered. We aren't sure yet about the extent of the damage to her brain. When the anesthesia wears off in a couple hours we should know more."

"Could she—Will she wake up then?" Angell asked, her voice small.

The doctor looked at her. "We'll know more when the anesthesia wears off," he repeated gently.

Danny saw her wince then Mac was following the doctor from the room, and he was caving in on himself again. Numbly, he turned back to the window but the lights beyond the glass were just a bright pattern without coherent meaning and they couldn't distract him this time.

He collapsed into an orange plastic chair and buried his face in his hands, barely noticing when Flack eased into the one next to him. The other man didn't say anything, just leaned back and, after several minutes, Danny dropped his hands and did the same.

"Where'd Stella and Hawkes go?" Danny asked, his voice croaking from disuse.

"Processing the scene."

Finally, Danny felt something other than numbness: Anger. Stifling, burning anger. "How did it happen?" he asked tightly.

"Danny—"

"Flack," he said lowly, blazing eyes sweeping towards the other man. "What happened?"

Flack's face hardened a bit and he opened his mouth to speak, but the next voice didn't come from him.

"She pushed me out of the way."

Danny jerked at Angell's words, having forgotten she was even in the room. She looked horrible, like she hadn't slept in a week. Her hair hung limply around her shell-shocked face and down into her hollow eyes. He didn't want to look at her, but he couldn't look away.

"Whaddya mean?"

Mac was coming back in the room and Danny's eyes drifted towards him. "Angell, Flack already took your statement," Mac reminded her.

She swallowed and her arms tightened around her middle, as if she were afraid everything would spill out if she let go for even a second. "Danny needs to hear it."

No one said anything for a long while, and Danny felt his heart picking up in anger. He'd been too out of it earlier to hear anything anyone said, but now he was willing to listen and he desperately needed to know why Lindsay was lying in a bed with stitches and a morphine drip.

Mac didn't object again, so Angell licked her lips and started talking. "When we ran the prints Lindsay lifted at the murder this morning, she found a hit in the system. Vincent Romero. I knew him from when I worked on narco a few years ago. He'd never been charged, but he'd always been just one step away, you know?

"We went to pick him up. I was upset and wouldn't wait for Hawkes, so Lindsay followed me in without him. Romero was strung out, but we didn't realize he was hallucinating until he pulled the gun on me. I think Lindsay knew," Angell whispered. "She tried to get my attention, but he was already acting shifty and I…He started yelling nonsense…I don't know.

"I tried to calm him down, but he was crazy, shaking. And then he heard Hawkes's voice in the hallway and he completely lost control. Lindsay shoved me out of the way just before the gun went off. Then she was on the ground, and I had my gun out."

Danny closed his eyes and shook his head. Mac cleared his throat. "That's enough, Angell."

"Danny, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her arms still clutching her own body.

Standing abruptly, he pushed past everyone. "I have to go," he muttered.

He stopped when Mac took his arm in a tight grip. "You can't see her, Danny. She's still being prepped for a room."

The words made Danny's tense further and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts racing through his mind. Mac still held his arm and Danny was glad for the anchor to reality.

"Danny!"

Looking up as Mac's arm dropped, he saw Lindsay's mother hurrying towards him down the hall. For a moment, he couldn't figure out why she was in New York or why Lindsay's father and brother had appeared behind her.

Then she was clutching his arms and pulling him into a hug. Suddenly, painfully, he made the connection. Lindsay. Hospital. Parents.

He hugged Molly back, his mind surfacing enough to really take in his surroundings. Mac, Angell and Flack stared at them a few feet away. But all he could focus on was wondering how Lindsay's family had gotten a flight out so fast?

"Molly, I—" he started, stalling out when she pulled back to look at him.

"How is she?"

Her eyes were too much like Lindsay's; he couldn't find any words to answer her. Shaking his head helplessly, he was relieved when Brad spoke up from behind his parents.

"I'll find a doctor."

Sniffling, Molly pulled away to wipe her eyes. Strangely, Danny found himself unwilling to let her go. When she tried to slip out of his grip, he held on for a second too long. She patted his bicep as his hand finally unclenched from around hers.

"How are you?" Molly asked gently.

Guilt flooded him. "I shoulda been there. I'm so sorry. I wasn't there and now—"

"Oh, shh, shh," Molly said, pulling him back into her arms. "Not your fault, sweet boy."

Danny squeezed her then jerked away, his shame making the movements harsh. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Reaching out, Gordon squeezed Danny's shoulder, cutting off the apology. Molly smiled tremulously up at Danny from her tiny stature. Brad returned, doctor in tow, and Molly and Gordon gathered together, bringing Danny with them.

"Mom, Dad, this is Dr. Weston. Lindsay's surgeon."

"How do you do?" Gordon said, offering a hand to the doctor. "Thank you for taking care of our daughter."

The doctor nodded politely and began explaining the situation. "The bullet caused little damage, really. Oddly enough, it hit her almost exactly where the last did, so it hit mostly scar tissue. It'll be a painful rehabilitation, but I see no reason she shouldn't have a full recovery in that sector."

"But?" Molly pressed, her voice no more than a whisper. Brad laid a hand on her shoulder.

"The blood loss was significant," Dr. Weston said slowly. "The trauma caused her heart to stop beating for several minutes, and her brain was deprived of oxygen because of it."

"What does that mean?" Brad asked when the silence dragged on.

Taking a deep breath, Dr. Weston brought his hands up in front of his stomach and gestured absently, like it was a nervous habit. "It's possible that she won't wake up. Or, if she does, that she'll be brain damaged."

Danny watched Molly's eyes slide closed, and she sagged against her husband. Brad turned away and ran a hand through his hair.

"We'll know more when the anesthesia wears off."

"When will that be?" Gordon asked.

"Any time now."

"Thank you, doctor," Molly whispered. "May we sit with her?"

The doctor smiled gently. "She's being moved into a private room. I'll have a nurse come get you in a few minutes."

After he'd disappeared down the hall, Molly and Gordon turned back to the room. Finally noticing the others, Molly mumbled, "Oh, hello."

Mac immediately stepped forward. "Mrs. Monroe, Mr. Monroe, I'm Mac Taylor—"

"Ah, yes. We spoke on the phone. Nice to officially meet you," Molly said with a wan smile.

"Pleasure's mine. Can I get you anything?"

"No, no. We're fine. Thank you, Detective."

Mac's phone began ringing and he pulled it out, apologizing. Molly shook her head, dismissing his concern, and he exited the waiting room.

As if on a cue, Flack rose from his chair and nodded to Lindsay's family. "I'm Detective Don Flack, ma'am, sir. And this is Detective Jennifer Angell. We work with your daughter."

Molly smiled. "I'm Molly, Lindsay's mother. This is her father, Gordon, and her brother, Brad."

"Good to meet you," Flack told them with another nod. Angell murmured something, but it was unintelligible and Danny didn't want to listen to her anyway.

He didn't think he blamed her for what happened; in truth, his mind wasn't quite able to process her part in everything right then. She was just a reminder that Lindsay hadn't walked away unscathed as Angell had.

Mac came back in the room and said something in a low voice to Angell, who shrugged. They were all silent for a while. Someone had a watch on, and it was so quiet in the room Danny could hear the ticking of the second hand. He'd never done well with quiet, and he rubbed his hands over his face.

"Mr. and Mrs. Monroe?"

Everyone spun to face the redheaded nurse standing at the entrance to the waiting room. She smiled gently—did all medical professionals have to go to a seminar on smiling gently?—and gestured into the hallway. "You daughter's in a room now. I can take you there."

Danny followed as they started to file out and the nurse bit her lip. "I'm sorry, sir. It's family only."

Molly reached back and tugged Danny closer so she could slip her arm through his. "He is family. He comes with us."

For a moment it looked like the nurse might protest then she began leading the way down the hall. It seemed like they were walking for a long time, like that hallway in _The Shining_ that kept getting longer and longer. But, finally, they reached the right sliding glass door and the nurse pulled it open.

"I'm sorry, you can only stay a few minutes."

Without a word, they all pushed past her and moved into the room to crowd around the bed. Danny felt his face go blank as he took in the various tubes sticking out of her. For an instant, he saw Louie's image overlaid on hers, the same iv, morphine drip, tube to help him breathe, the sensor for the heart monitor fitted over one finger.

Gripping the railing of the bed, he forced himself to keep looking, afraid she would disappear completely if he shut his eyes. She looked so small lying there, smaller than she'd ever seemed awake.

Someone pushed him into a chair, but he refused to let go of the railing and so remained leaning forward, staring into Lindsay's face. A long while passed, or what felt like a long while, and then Molly was gently exerting pressure on his arm.

"Danny, the doctor needs to check on her."

He nodded vaguely and stood, his fingers finally unwrapping from the plastic. His knuckles were white from his grip, his hands ached, and his eyes looked over his shoulder at Lindsay as he was pushed from the room.

"When's Connor arriving?" Molly asked Brad.

"He called about an hour ago," Brad murmured to her. "He didn't have a car at the farm, so he had to borrow one of the ranch hands', but he's on his way now. I think the farm's only a couple hours north of here."

Danny wandered a bit down the hall so he wouldn't have to hear the conversation and leaned against the wall. After a minute, he was surprised when Gordon appeared, silently settling himself against the wall next to Danny. The older man didn't say anything and Danny returned the favor as they both let their heads fall against the wall behind them.

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Hospital chairs were not comfortable. After a night spent in one, Danny had become an expert in the myriad ways they were unpleasant. He wasn't surprised though; he'd made the same discovery at Louie's bedside the year before.

He stared down at Lindsay, trying to see past the tubes and the wires coming out of her. He could hear the flurry of movement in the hospital outside her room, a backdrop of white noise for the beep of her heart rate monitor. He clung to the sound, proof of life.

"Danny."

Starting in surprise, Danny looked up to find Mac standing across from him. Behind the other man, Stella smiled sweetly.

"Hey," he rasped, scrubbing a hand roughly over his face.

"Been here all night?" Stella asked, coming around the bed to stand next to him.

Danny's eyes involuntarily drifted back down to Lindsay's face. He searched vainly for any sort of change. "Yeah."

"Anything?"

"No."

Mac's eyes darted back to Lindsay. "The doctor says her injuries are starting to mend nicely."

"And they moved her out of ICU, that's good," Stella added.

Danny chuckled humorlessly. "Tentative hope, huh?"

He felt Stella wince behind him and wished he could bring himself to care. Mac was quiet then told him, "It's better than nothing, Danny."

He desperately wanted to reach out and take Lindsay's hand, feel her pulse beneath his fingertips, but stopped himself. She wouldn't want him to, not in front of Mac and Stella. Actually, he still wasn't all that certain she wanted him doing it period. He smiled bitterly and briefly entertained the thought of doing it anyway, but laced his fingers together instead.

Belatedly, he nodded in answer to Mac. Stella shifted behind him and then he felt her hand squeeze his shoulder momentarily. "I have to get back to the lab. I just wanted to see how she was doing." Danny didn't look up, unable to think of a response. "Tell her parents I stopped by?"

He nodded and muffled footsteps headed towards the door. Danny waited until she was gone before asking the question he'd been pondering half the night. "Open and shut, right?"

His voice was little more than a growl, but Mac didn't react. "Romero's already in jail, Danny."

Danny nodded and saw Mac's hand come down to squeeze Lindsay's arm gently. Mac seemed so calm that Danny felt resentment pump through his veins.

This was Lindsay. Why wasn't Mac more upset? Danny felt his fists clench and unclench as he tried to control the emotions roiling in his mind.

"Danny."

The command in Mac's voice made Danny's head jerk up. Considering the harsh quality of his tone, Danny was surprised to find his boss's face completely neutral.

"Yeah, Mac?" he asked warily.

"Go home."

"What?" His response was breathless, like the words had punched all the air out of his lungs.

"You look like hell. Go home. You may not want to sleep, but at least take a shower."

Danny was shaking his head vehemently before Mac finished speaking. "No way. I'm not leaving her here alone."

"Where are her parents? Her brother?"

"Brad and Gordon went to get food. Connor's booking hotel rooms. Molly's taking a shower in the bathroom," Danny listed tonelessly.

Sighing, Mac shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and leaned forward slightly. "Danny, you need a break."

"I need her to wake up," Danny shot back, clenching his fists in the sheets next to her body. Realizing what he'd done, he hurriedly let go and hid the wrinkles he'd made by folding his hands over them. "And when she does, I'll be right here."

Mac searched his face and Danny gazed impassively back at him. Finally, Mac released the railing and stepped back.

"I'll figure out how to cover your shifts this week."

"Thanks," Danny said, sagging as his anger dissolved.

"But that's all I can give you, Danny."

"I won't need any longer than that. She's gonna wake up, Mac."

The older man nodded. "I'll stop by your place tonight, pick up a fresh set of clothes."

"Thanks."

"Try to get some rest."

Danny's lips twitched into a twisted imitation of his usual cocky smile. Mac took his leave, glancing back from the doorway. Ignoring him, Danny leaned back in the chair, his eyes fixed on Lindsay's monitors.

He felt Mac staring through the glass windows into Lindsay's room for what felt like an eternity. Then he was gone and Danny leaned forward again, reaching out with a finger to touch the back of Lindsay's hand.

The skin there felt like silk and he let out a shaky breath. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he lifted her hand to his face and pressed his lips against it.

"Come on, Montana."

In the background, the shower shut off and Danny gently laid Lindsay's hand back on the bed. A few minutes later, Molly opened the door of the bathroom and stepped out wearing a set of scrubs the nurse had given her.

She smiled wanly at him, her hair hanging in wet chunks around her face. Pulling a chair up across the bed from him, Molly sighed and spoke. "You'd think that, in ten years, they'd have made more comfortable hospital chairs."

It surprised a short laugh out of him and he swallowed it guiltily. "The doctor came back about ten minutes ago. No change, he said."

Molly nodded. "Just like last time," she murmured, brushing hair out of Lindsay's face.

"How long, last time?" he asked nervously.

"A couple of days." Her voice was calm as she trailed a finger down Lindsay's cheek.

Noise outside the door made them both glance towards the source as Brad, Gordon and Connor filed through the doorway. Connor had arrived late the night before, in a car borrowed from his oldest ranch hand. They hadn't said much to each other since then.

Danny's eyes caught his, and they nodded their acknowledgement. Connor was in love with Lindsay, a fact that might cause problems later, but, at that moment, Danny viewed it as a bonding point.

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"Louie and my dad took me to my first game before I could walk," he whispered, trying not to wake Molly across the bed or Gordon in the corner. "My dad caught a foul pop up and he gave it to me. Been hooked since."

He wasn't sure why he'd started talking after Molly fell asleep. He just knew that he wanted to stay awake. And he missed talking to her. She couldn't answer, but he was pretty sure these were things she'd want to know.

"My mother was never much of a baseball fan. Being a good Roman Catholic, she's more into church than anything else. Well, church and cooking. She's good at that. You'll have to come to Sunday dinner." He paused to laugh. "She'd blow a gasket if I actually brought a woman home."

He smiled softly down at her face. "I think you'll like her, Montana. She don't take my bullshit either."

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Danny hurried down the hall, his hair almost dry from his shower. He was sure that he'd made it back to the hospital in under an hour, but he still felt as if he'd been gone too long. After spending three straight days in the hospital, leaving for even a few minutes felt monumental. What if something had changed while he was gone? What if Lindsay had needed him and he hadn't been there?

Of course, everything was fine. Stepping through the doorway, he saw Molly in a pool of light by the bed, knitting. When he rapped on the window, Molly looked up, startled.

"Oh, Danny, you're back already." Smiling, she started folding the knitting in her lap as he settled into the chair across the bed.

"Whatcha makin?" he asked, handing her a cup of coffee.

She looked down at the bright pink yarn with resigned bemusement. "Nothing actually. My fingers just itched for something to do. I saw this in the gift shop and bought it on a whim."

The lamp cast a shadow over Lindsay's face and he clenched his fingers into a fist. For some reason, the darkness seemed threatening when it covered her face like that, making Danny ache to turn the light on her and chase it all away.

"Where is everybody?" he asked instead, clutching his own coffee.

"Gordon and Brad are at the hotel. I think Connor just went for a walk."

Nodding, Danny eyed Lindsay. She looked pale, but the circles had disappeared from under her eyes. It gave him hope that she was peaceful rather than plagued by pain and memories.

"I saw Angell leaving earlier today," Danny murmured.

"Who? Oh, Jennifer. Yes, she came by earlier when you were getting coffee."

Danny shifted his shoulders restlessly. "I try not to be mad at her. It wasn't her fault. But Lindsay's stuck in this bed and Angell's back at work already," he spat out before controlling the rage and stuffing it back under the surface.

Molly cradled her coffee thoughtfully. "One thing Lindsay always regretted was that she'd frozen up."

It wasn't the answer he'd been expecting, though he'd already known this from talking to Lindsay. Frowning down at the blankets, he waited for Molly to continue.

"If it had happened twice…" Molly trailed off, struggling to find the words. "I'm not glad she's here, but I think she would be," she finally finished.

Immediately, she bit her lip and set her coffee on the side table. Wincing, Danny gulped at his own cup. "And Jennifer certainly isn't happy about it," Molly pointed out.

She was right. Angell had looked like hell warmed over; not much of an improvement from the last time he'd seen her, the day Lindsay had been admitted. But her turmoil didn't make him feel better.

Looking up, he was startled to find Molly staring at him. He furrowed his brow at her questioningly and she smiled.

"Are you in love with my daughter, Danny Messer?"

It shouldn't have been, considering how Molly had met him, but the question was out of left field. Molly had never touched the subject of his relationship with Lindsay. Not even when he'd shown up on her doorstep after following her daughter to Montana.

Clearing his throat, he laughed nervously. "We've never even been on a date, unless you count eating bugs together, which I personally don't." When her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, Danny shrugged. "Long story."

"I'd like to hear that story," Molly said, laughing.

So, grinning somewhat tiredly, he told her that one and a couple of others. He told her about the bugs and carrying Lindsay across a roof in the name of science, which naturally led to telling about Lindsay's little experiments with evidence. He even told her some of his own stories, stories that Lindsay hadn't been part of.

Molly listened, enraptured as he spoke, never interrupting. In fact, when he was finally cut off twenty minutes later, it was by Connor's unexpected laughter.

"Lindsay is a tough cookie," he said fondly, moving into the room. Apparently, he'd been listening awhile. "Always was."

"True," Molly agreed with a reminiscent gleam in her eye.

Taking hold of the chair Gordon had been sleeping in the night before, Connor pulled it up next to Molly's. He shot Danny a wry look as he sat. "She once pushed Brad off a fence for scaring her horse."

"Scaring her horse? She nearly broke her neck when she was thrown," Molly grumbled, huffing at the memory.

"She didn't care much about that part," Connor pointed out with an easy smile. "Just wanted to make sure the horse was okay."

Danny smirked. "Definitely sounds like Montana."

"Come again?" Connor said, his brow furrowing.

"That's what he calls her," Molly told him with a worldly air, gesturing at Lindsay's prone form.

Connor raised an eyebrow, studying Danny. "You call her Montana?"

Danny felt the flush creeping up his neck and was thankful he was on the dark side of the bed. "It was a rookie thing." That was as far as he was willing to explain.

Both Molly and Connor looked amused as they watched him sip his coffee. But Connor's eye had a darker expression in them, hidden under the amusement; one that Danny recognized from his mirror: resignation.

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Lauren: I know, I know, I'm evil. Sorry about the twist. Danny's past is going to play a major role in the continuation of this storyline, but not for a while. There are some other things on the agenda right now. : p

messermonroe: That's right, epic. Mwahahaha. Angell definitely freaked out in there, which is probably going to haunt her for the rest of her life. If Lindsay were channeling Marissa, we'd end up with some crazy stuff going down. I don't think I have the strength to go there.

Trixie7: Lindsay's a tough woman; she'll be fine. Groggy, probably, but fine. Jen and Lindsay still have miles to go friendship-wise, but are unbreakably bonded now, I'd say. I mean, if someone jumped in front of a bullet for me, I think I'd want to keep her around. : p

Muzzy-Olorea: I really liked writing the Jealous Lindsay scene (does that make me mean-spirited?) because she's put him through so much torment. Besides, it really pushed her to go after her man, right? Who is now, of course, going through even more torture. Sigh.

scoob2222: Sorry this update took so long! I was so excited to get the last one out, I forgot I only had this one half written. I'll try to put the next chapter up later tonight as penance. :p

danitwin: Thanks for reviewing! I love drama. And angst. Which you could probably tell, right? For some reason, angsty love stories make me really happy.

qt4good: I think it's sweet, too. Danny, on the other hand, not so much. I think he's a little pissed at poor Jen.

The Little Corinthian: Lindsay picked Big Trouble, because she figured Danny would like it. Besides, it's hilarious (and completely under appreciated as the only good Tim Allen movie in existence). Danny is freaking out; he and Mac seem to be on shaky terms, though I'm guessing Mac understands what Danny's going through better than anyone else. I think Flustered Danny is insanely sexy because he would be so unused to feeling that way; he's notoriously cool and collected when it comes to women. Seeing that lifetime's worth of confidence shaken up…awesome.

chili-peppers: She and Jen are going to be such good friends by the time I'm through with them. (cracks knuckles determinedly) I've decided that I love Danny with Lindsay's family. Writing those scenes was fun, though I don't like this chapter as much as some of the others I've written.

Devilla: I'm not sure yet how Danny will act around Angell. He hasn't really had to deal with her up close and personal so far. I think she's avoiding him.

berta101: Oh, I've always been crazy. I've just gotten really good at hiding it usually. I think Danny and Lindsay have a bit more to go through before anything concrete gets settled between them.

Tenley: If this kind of Angell appeared on the show, I would be so happy. Ironically enough, I think Jen has been a big part of the progress that's been made between Danny and Lindsay. More progress to come, but it shall still be slow considering Lindsay won't be able to move for a very long time. Kinda puts a damper on the hot hot lovin'. Or so I'm told.

oddie33325: Sorry this took so long to get up. I didn't have it written completely and it took a lot longer than I expected it to. I'm not as happy with this one as I have been with others, but the next chapter is more satisfying. Let me just set to rest any fears you might have had: I would never kill off Lindsay. I love her too much. :p

specialfrog: Oh, this fic is no where near done. I'd say we're maybe three quarters of the way through. Hehe. I hope you don't lose patience with me and my inexplicable need for angst!

RachelHeidi: If Romero wasn't already in jail, Danny would be after him like white on rice. Luckily, Mac has this covered. Though I could almost see Flack letting Danny get the guy in a room alone before he's transferred to prison. Almost. Flack has too much integrity, but it would so tempt him. And, yes, this really gets things moving, though since Lindsay can't move for a few months, it'll be a bit difficult to further their relationship. Just to warn you. (winces) Sorry in advance about the numbness.

Leena7: Danny is slowly losing his mind, I'm sure. Luckily, he's a strong guy, otherwise the pure angst of this relationship would kill him. Thanks for reviewing!

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A.N. On topic: I'm going to try to get up another chapter by tonight since this one took so long. So, I'm off to write and edit like a fiend. Cross your fingers for me!

A.N. Off topic: I was having a discussion with someone about the show and I realized that at some point I subconsciously decided to become spoiler-free. I really, really wish that Danny appearing in that courtroom had been a surprise for me. I would have squealed long and hard. As it was, all I felt was intense relief that they hadn't cut the scenes…well…for the first minute or so. :-p Then the Almost Kiss happened…/rant.


	10. Chapter 10

A.N. All right! Got it up just under the wire. (Still don't own anything, unfortunately.)

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Lindsay pulled on the neck of her shirt under the bib of her striped dress. Sighing tiredly, she trudged up the steps leading to the kitchen door and pushed it open. Music and laughter drifted to her from the front of the house, and she paused before setting her backpack on the kitchen floor.

Following the noise, she walked through the house to the living room. Peeking in the doorway, she saw Shelby, Toni and Gwen dancing around the room. Her eyebrows shot up as the three of them sang along to Madonna, never having noticed her entrance.

A smirk settled over her face and she leaned against the doorway, watching them. In the middle of spinning around, Gwen finally noticed Lindsay. "Hey," she said, catching the other girls' attention. "How's our favorite little candy striper?"

Lindsay shook her head and moved further into the room as Shelby reached over to turn down the volume on the portable cd player. "Tired. I was reading to Mr. Morrison today and he demanded that I act out all the parts. MacBeth has a lot of parts," she whined, collapsing onto the couch and tossing an arm over her eyes.

"He made you act out MacBeth?" Shelby wrinkled her nose in distaste, coming to sit on the arm of the couch.

"Happy birthday to me."

There was a silent beat, then Shelby's mischievous voice. "When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?"

Lindsay lowered her arm slightly so she could glare suspiciously at her best friend. "What's that?"

"Dance."

Groaning as Shelby pulled her off the couch, Lindsay let Shelby pull her to the middle of the room. She sighed as Toni switching in a new cd. Then Toni stood and grinned wickedly, turning the volume knob to the highest it would go. Lindsay laughed uncontrollably as Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" came blaring out of the speakers.

She let herself be pulled into the circle of her friends as they danced around the living room, singing at the top of their lungs.

Happy birthday.

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"Freddy?"

Danny glanced up at the sound of Molly's voice and saw a tall brunette man standing just inside the doorway. He looked exhausted, but managed a small smile for Lindsay's mother.

"Hey, Molly."

He didn't look much older than Danny, which was surprising since he knew this had to be Lindsay's uncle. As he came into the room, Danny noted the creases in the other man's t-shirt and the unkempt beard on his face. He was pretty sure Lindsay's uncle wasn't homeless—surely she would have mentioned that—but he certainly looked the part.

Freddy dropped a backpack in the corner and leaned over to kiss Molly's cheek. "This better be the last time I get this call."

Molly sighed. "My feelings exactly."

Freddy glanced up and seemed to notice Danny for the first time. "Oh, hey." Then he raised an eyebrow at the sight of Lindsay's hand cradled in Danny's. He'd taken hold of it sometime during the night and couldn't make himself let go.

"Hey," Danny said, half-standing and leaning over the bed to offer his free hand. "I'm—"

"Danny," Freddy finished, nodding. "Heard about you some."

Barely keeping the surprise off his face, Danny nodded politely. Appearing to dismiss the matter, Freddy glanced around the room and sighed. "There decent coffee in this place?" he asked hopefully.

"If by decent you mean sludge, sure, down the hall," Molly told him, smiling wanly.

Freddy chuckled, his entire body drooping from exhaustion. He turned to leave, one hand rubbing absently at his neck, when Gordon appeared in the doorway. Danny blinked as Lindsay's father stopped dead at the sight of Freddy.

Danny's eyes flicked between the brothers as they eyed each other warily. A tense beat of time later, Freddy nodded once. "Gordon."

"Freddy. Thanks for coming."

"Of course I came," Freddy muttered, pushing past his brother into the hallway.

Gordon didn't move as Freddy disappeared from sight, staring blankly at the place his brother had occupied not a moment before. Instinctively, Danny's fingers tightened around Lindsay's.

Molly took a deep breath. "Gordon—"

"You know I didn't mean it like he took it," Gordon told her, sounding exasperated. But her voice seemed to snap Lindsay's father out of his daze, and he moved fully into the room to collapse in the chair Connor had left near Molly's when he left with Brad.

"That boy never grew up," Gordon muttered so quietly Danny almost didn't hear him.

Molly smiled apologetically at Danny. "Are you hungry? I think I need a sandwich."

"Nah, I'm good, thanks."

Nodding, Molly stood and smoothed her shirt. Lindsay would have just yanked on the hem, while Molly gently ran her hands down the fabric, easing out the wrinkles.

Danny wasn't keen on being left alone with Gordon, but he just turned his eyes back to Lindsay. Softly, he brushed a finger down the hand he still held, the skin silky even after days in a hospital.

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Shelby bit her lip and glanced down at the paper on the counter yet again. Lindsay sighed. "Shelby, all you're doing is dumping that," she pointed at the tiny measuring spoon full of salt, "into that." Pointing again, she indicated the beaker full of liquid.

When Shelby still didn't move, Lindsay groaned. "It's not rocket science, Shel."

"And it's not going to explode?"

Staring at her in disbelief, Lindsay felt her mouth open and close a few times. Finally, she said, "It's salt and heavy water. What, you think the ocean is explosive?" Throwing her hands in the air, Lindsay cried, "Watch out, California!"

Rolling her big eyes, her tawny lashes quivering as she glared, Shelby huffed and shifted on her stool. "You don't have to be so dramatic."

"I'm being dramatic? You just asked me if the salt water was going to explode."

The incredulity in Lindsay's voice made Shelby crack a smile. Glancing at each other, the girls broke into peals of laughter, clutching at each other to keep from falling off the classroom stools.

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The doctor lifted his stethoscope with a sigh. Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Molly's hand squeeze Gordon's a bit tighter. Everyone waited, but the doctor just moved his stethoscope to another area on Lindsay's chest and listened again.

After an eternity of silence, he seemed to be finished and removed the buds from his ears. Freddy shuffled a coin between his fingers absently, his eyes locked on the doctor. "Well, doc, what's the verdict?"

"She's healing nicely," Dr. Weston said, shoving his stethoscope in his white coat.

"It's been four days," Molly whispered. "Shouldn't she be awake by now?"

The doctor took a deep breath before speaking. "Unfortunately, with comas, it's hard to tell how long they'll last."

"But she's going to wake up," Freddy responded calmly, as if he had no doubts on the subject.

The doctor tactfully remained silent, reaching over to check Lindsay's iv and morphine drip. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny shoved his hands in his jean pockets and let his head hang in front of him.

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Shelby laughed, the sunlight glinting off her blonde waterfall of hair as she shook her head. "Seriously, Lindsay, get your nose out of that book."

"I've only got one chapter left," Lindsay muttered, trying not to let her attention wander. Shelby just couldn't seem to reconcile herself with the fact that homework was something that needed to be done, not avoided at all costs.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lindsay saw Toni's tanned fingers sweep a charcoal pencil over her sketchbook, miraculously recreating Shelby's frame lit by the sunlight on the plain white paper. Her fingers never paused as she spoke. "Why are you even reading it? You hate Melville."

"Lawrence insisted it would be on the AP exam," Shelby explained, wrinkling her nose. English was not her favorite subject. "Lindsay Monroe, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, your two best friends are trying to spend a beautiful day with you and all you can do is read about a giant whale? Do you realize how much of a loser that makes you?"

Flipping the page, Lindsay tried to ignore them. "You know you can't reason with her," Toni murmured from her position on the blanket. Her voice was, as always, cool and even as if nothing could ever ruffle her.

"Lindsay," Shelby said sharply, finally succeeding in getting the brunette's attention.

Huffing out a sigh, Lindsay lifted her head and glared at the uncharacteristically serious blonde. "What?" she snapped, her finger holding her place in the book.

"Melville wasn't on the exam."

"What?" Lindsay asked, her voice losing its edge as she blinked at Shelby in surprise.

"You aced all of your APs, remember?"

Frowning, Lindsay tilted her head to the side. "How do you know? We haven't taken them yet."

"Yes, you did."

"What are you talking about, Shel?" Lindsay asked, laughing nervously. "The exams are next week."

Shelby smiled sadly at her best friend, her green eyes brimming with sympathy. Toni sat up to scoot next to Shelby, the pages of her abandoned sketchbook stirred by the wind ruffling their hair. Lindsay automatically reached up to tuck hers behind her ears, but found that the wind didn't touch her, and her hair lay still against her suddenly throbbing head.

Swallowing, Lindsay spoke again, this time in a whisper. "No, they're not. We took them ten years ago. And then you died."

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She wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but the voices surrounding her were getting clearer now. They'd been background noise for a while as she'd drifted in the numbness. At first, what seemed like eons ago, she'd thought focusing on them would be a good idea, but as soon as she tried, blazing agony swept through her, eating down to her bones, and she hadn't been able to hear at all for a time.

Needless to say, she was reticent to try again.

The agony was still there, white hot and angry, lying just beneath the surface. But Lindsay was tired of drifting. She was sure she'd heard her mother's voice, which didn't make sense for a very good reason—she just couldn't quite remember what that reason was.

When she heard Danny's voice, she'd tried desperately to hold onto it, but it was so quiet and she was so far away. She picked up a couple of words—something about a church maybe—and felt a wave of exasperation as the sounds faded away again.

When his voice came back, she held on tight and tried to understand. She had a feeling that what he was saying was important. The sounds were vague and she could only pick out one or two words, like he wasn't speaking English though she knew he was. Frustrated, she inwardly groaned.

Then Danny's voice went loud, and she cringed away.

That's when the next voice came in, talking about heart rates and blood pressure. But she had stopped listening again, distracted by the agony and that awful incessant beeping.

Lindsay moaned at the sound of the alarm. "Turn it off," she grumbled at whoever was in the room with her.

"Turn what off?" Hearing her mother's voice, Lindsay cracked an eye open then hissed at the brightness. "Is she awake?"

She'd been dreaming about something, she recalled. She just couldn't remember what it was. She was sure Shelby had been there. Suddenly, something cold was pressed against her chest and she was startled, losing the vestige of memory she'd held onto.

"Close the blinds," someone said, and Lindsay saw the light dim against her eyelids.

Cautiously, she tried opening her eyes again. It still hurt, but in comparison to the rest of her body, it felt like a feather-touch. A strange man was leaning over her, looking distantly concerned.

"How're you feeling, Lindsay?"

Licking her lips, Lindsay croaked, "Peachy."

"The morphine will kick in. Just give it a moment," the stranger staring down at her assured her.

He was right. A moment later the pain ebbed a bit, though it didn't disappear entirely. Finally, she was able to feel that someone was holding her hand. Curious, she carefully rolled her head to the side.

Danny gently squeezed her fingers and smiled down at her. "Hey you."

"Hey," she whispered, her throat dry. Then she remembered what happened. The gun, Angell. "Jen?"

Something flickered across his face, but her brain was too groggy to recognize the emotion. "She's fine. Don't worry about her."

A small smile tugged at her lips as she blinked lethargically. "I moved this time, Danny."

"What?" he murmured, leaning down so he was closer to her when she spoke again.

She carefully held his gaze though she was having trouble focusing. "I didn't just stand there. I moved."

A slow grin spread across his face. "You did good, Montana."

She wanted to sigh happily and curl into a contented ball, but the pain was still lingering, making her twinge with every breath. Working through it, she opened her mouth again, needing him to know. "I heard you."

Danny kept smiling though he seemed confused. "That's good."

"What were you saying?" she murmured, her eyes drifting shut as the sudden floating feeling took over. "Something about church."

"Church?" he questioned just before she passed out again.

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When she woke up the second time, she did it less dramatically, slowly rising to the surface. A lot more noise filled her room and she didn't think anyone noticed as her eyelids fluttered open.

Looking around, she was surprised to find the room filled to the brim with people. Her parents were there, as were Brad and Connor. Danny was still at her bedside, though he was speaking over his shoulder to someone she couldn't see. Mac stood rigid at the foot of her bed, not looking entirely pleased with the noise level in the room, despite the fact that everyone appeared to be murmuring to each other.

"Hey," Molly said, hurrying to the side of Lindsay's bed.

Lindsay looked tiredly up at her. "Hi, Mom."

"Morning, sunshine. How are you feeling?"

Smiling as much as she could, Lindsay watched her mother smooth out the sheets around her body. "Great. How's the bullet?"

Her mother winced as the room grew quiet, and Lindsay cursed the morphine for making her flippant. "Sorry, Mama," she managed to whisper, already losing her strength.

Suddenly, another person walked through the door carrying two flats of coffee cups. "She awake?" Freddy asked, handing cups of coffee out to the room at large.

"That for me?" she asked, her voice still languid from sleeping for almost a week.

"I don't think so, Linny. You won't be having coffee for a very long time." She pulled a face at him and he grinned. "Good to have you back."

"Weren't you in the Galapagos Islands?" she murmured, her eyes sliding shut for a drawn out minute.

"I came back," he told her simply. "That's twice now you've scared the hell out of me. You want me back in the country, call. Don't step in front of any more guns."

"Try not to," she promised.

"Do better than try."

"Have you met everyone?" she asked tiredly, finally having noticed Stella standing near the window, obviously the person Danny had been looking at.

"Yeah, we took care of that while you were indisposed." She felt him eyeing her worriedly, as was everyone else in the room. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"No more sleep. Been asleep for days."

"No, you've been in a coma. Slight difference," Brad offered from behind their mother.

Irritably, she shifted on the bed and winced from the pain, her breath catching in her throat. She tried to take short breaths so she wouldn't jostle the wound, but the damage was done.

"Should we call the doctor?" Molly asked worriedly as everyone listened to Lindsay's heart rate increase.

"No," Lindsay groaned. "Fine. Just…hurts a little."

"Understatement of the century, I'm sure," Danny muttered, restlessly moving from one foot to the other.

Lindsay managed a small chuckle and the entire room relaxed.

"You need more morphine?" Mac asked evenly.

"No. Already on it." She paused. "I think."

"Montana, you got enough drugs in you to open a pharmacy," Danny told her, stepping close enough to grip the railing on her bed.

"I do feel a little loopy," she admitted, smiling up at him as the pain faded back into the background.

He grinned down at her and shook his head indulgently. "At least now I know what you're like drunk."

"A pressing question in your life, Messer?"

It was strange. His eyes had been the first thing she'd been able to focus on when she woke up, and he didn't seem to have moved from the room since, but she couldn't seem to get enough of them.

"Pretty," she murmured, her own eyes fluttering shut again.

"Pretty?" Brad repeated in amusement as Danny ducked his head bashfully and adjusted his glasses.

Everyone else hid smiles by looking away and Danny caught Mac coughing to cover up a chuckle. "Danny, we're going to head back to the lab. Call us if she wakes up again?"

"Yeah, will do," Danny told him, his cheeks still burning.

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"If you wanted time off, you should have just put in a request," Stella teased, fluffing the flowers she'd brought to brighten Lindsay's room.

"I used up all my vacation time during the trial. I had to be sneaky about it," Lindsay croaked, her voice still unpredictable due to the potent mix of too much sleep and drugs.

"I give you props for going with a gunshot wound. Mac never saw that one coming."

Laughing hurt, and it left Lindsay cringing on the bed. Stella gasped and clutched the bedrail. When Lindsay's face relaxed and her heart rate slowed, Stella muttered, "I'm sorry, Lindsay. I shouldn't even be joking about this."

"Well, what are we going to do? Cry about it? That'd be stupid," Lindsay told her, still dazed and a little snappish from the pain.

A throat clearing made Lindsay roll her head towards the doorway where she found Jen standing hesitantly. Smiling a bit, she called out to her as loudly as she could. "Come on in, the party's just getting started."

Jen smiled wanly and slipped inside, eyeing Stella nervously. Lindsay felt her lips pull into a frown as Stella turned away from the other woman. "I've got to get back to the lab," Stella said, giving the flowers one last fluff.

Reaching out, Stella swept a curl off Lindsay's forehead and stared down at her. "Danny'll probably be by after his shift."

A blush was staining her cheeks as Lindsay nodded, suddenly wanting Stella gone. The older woman's smile widened and she shook her head, turning to go. She nodded once at Angell before leaving, looking uncertain, and Lindsay furrowed her brow.

After Stella had moved past the windows looking into the room, Jen moved closer to the bed until she was standing over Lindsay. She wasn't close enough to touch Lindsay or vice versus, but close enough for Lindsay to see her face clearly. Swallowing nervously, Jen didn't seem able to speak.

Lindsay frowned at her. "Jen?"

"Why'd you do it?"

The words came out in a rush, like they'd been on the tip of her tongue for so long nothing else could get past. Blinking wide eyes up at her, Lindsay answered as honestly as she could. "I didn't want you to get shot. I couldn't lose someone else like that."

"Someone else?" Jen asked, her voice as rough as Lindsay's. Closing her eyes, Lindsay wondered if Jen had used hers any more frequently than she herself had over the course of the past week.

Swallowing, Lindsay prepared herself and decided it would be easiest to plunge right in. "When I was eighteen, my friends and I were involved in a shooting. They died. I didn't."

She knew that she was mincing the story, but she was tired of telling it. Jen needed to know the gist, not the details.

"I watched them die. I couldn't do that again," Lindsay explained. "You're the first real friend I've made in ten years. I kinda want to keep you around."

"It was my fault," Jen whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you."

Lindsay frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. She felt a distant wave of frustration over the fact that even moving her facial muscles seemed to take extra effort.

"Jen," she said shortly, unable to make a brain muzzy from drugs and pain wrap around what the other woman was saying. "Romero was crazy and he pulled a gun. What could you have done about that?"

"I could have waited for Hawkes. You told me to, but I didn't."

"The man was crazy, Jen. He pulled a gun with two cops in the room," she pointed out. "I somehow doubt a third would have stopped him."

Wiping away a tear with a vicious hand, Jen swallowed thickly. "I shouldn't have egged him on—"

"Jen." Taking a shallow breath, Lindsay shook her head. "It's done. Over. You can't keep reliving it, wondering what if."

Jen bit her lip and looked away, her expression tragic. The pain was slowly retaking the hold it had over Lindsay, but she had to get it out before she fell asleep again. Jen needed to hear it.

"I don't blame you for this, Jen. This was my choice."

Jen's arms loosened from around her stomach, as if she finally believed it might stay in one piece. Nodding, she eased herself into the chair Danny left by the bed for his visits. Lindsay could tell the other woman still blamed herself, but there was little she could do to change that without more time.

"I still owe you my life."

"You can buy a round at Sullivan's," Lindsay said, trying to sound flippant—a difficult task given that she couldn't quite catch her breath.

"Oh, yeah, then we'll be square," Jen said dryly, wiping the last of her tears off her cheeks.

"Seriously, Jen. You would have done the same for me."

The confidence in Lindsay's voice made Jen wince. "I couldn't even move. I was completely frozen."

"So was I, that first time."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Jen told her, her voice low and remorseful.

"Yeah, it didn't make me feel better either," Lindsay agreed.

They were quiet for a long time. Then, looking up at her friend, Lindsay lifted one hand in a silent invitation. Jen smiled the smallest of smiles and reached over to clasp it in hers.

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Resting his elbows on his knees, Gordon folded his fingers together and leaned forward towards the bed. Lindsay bit her lip at his stoic expression. "Daddy?"

"Your brother and I have to get back, Lindsay."

Nodding against the pillow, Lindsay hid the pang his words caused by dropping her eyes to the railing. "The hands have been running things, but with both of us gone…Connor's mother called, says things look a little fishy out in the north pasture."

She reached out a finger and absently touched the plastic. "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, early flight."

She nodded again and cleared her throat. "Thanks for coming, Daddy. I'm sorry I took you away from the ranch."

Her father winced then stared directly into her face for a full minute. Catching her breath, Lindsay waited to see what he would do. A small smile, the barest curling of his lips, broke the impassive expression on Gordon's face.

"Lindsay Isabella Monroe, do you think that mattered at all?" A tiny sob escaped her lips. "Do you really think I wouldn't walk across fire for you?"

She shook her head, not arguing, merely overwhelmed. "I just wanted you safe. That's all I ever wanted," he murmured, healing another of the bleeding pieces inside of Lindsay.

For a suspended moment in time, she wasn't almost thirty with a life that had long ago used up most of the tears in her reserves. She felt like a little girl again as her father stroked her hair while she cried herself to sleep.

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Two weeks after first waking, Lindsay was allowed to sit up in bed. A painful process, to be sure, but she felt she'd obtained a certain amount of freedom by doing it. Of course, now that everyone had gone home or returned to work, she was bored out of her mind.

"How you doin?"

Looking up, she found Danny in the doorway, grinning at her. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and she spoke quickly to cover the noise of her heart monitor. "Hey, I thought you had to work today."

"I do, I do. But I'm on lunch, so I thought I'd stop in and say hi. See how you're doin."

She picked at the blanket covering her legs while he scooted a chair closer to her bed. "You didn't have to come check on me."

"I know I didn't," Danny said calmly, setting the bag he was carrying onto the table next to her bed. "I also didn't have to bring you this."

Out of the bag, he produced two containers and two forks. She felt a flutter in her stomach. He'd cooked for her?

"It's cold," he warned her. "I didn't think they'd let me in with the stuff if I asked to use a microwave."

Lindsay's mouth dropped open as he popped the lids to reveal lasagne. Large, heaping servings of homemade lasagne. "You made lasange?" she asked incredulously.

Danny shrugged. "My mother always claimed it was a cure-all. We stubbed our toes, she made lasagne. We broke our arms, she made lasagne. Louie got arrested—" He cut himself off.

"She made lasagne?" Lindsay offered him a tentative smile, picking up her fork.

"Yeah," he murmured, cutting up the noodles in his Tupperware.

Trying to ignore the sudden awkwardness, Lindsay took a bite and wanted to moan. "You made this?"

A wicked smirk made his eyes sparkle. "Happy to see me now, huh?"

"Well if you brought food every time you came, I might be more receptive in general," she teased him.

"Oh, don't even try it. I know you love seeing me. Admit it."

She stuck her nose in the air and refused to acknowledge him. He just laughed and she relaxed. Louie didn't seem to be a comfortable topic with him.

"So I'm pretty, huh?"

Lindsay's eyes flew to his face. "What?" she mumbled, lowering her fork and staring at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"You called me pretty," he told her, raising his own fork to his mouth.

He couldn't be serious. "I didn't," she said, horrified.

"Oh, yes you did. Everybody heard it."

"Everybody?" she repeated, sinking back in the bed and wanting to disappear.

"Everybody," he confirmed with relish.

Taking in his amused expression, she hid her embarrassment and shrugged with a determinedly casual air. "Well, you are."

Danny nearly choked on his lasagne.

Smugly, she scooped up the messy casserole. Once he'd recovered, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Men aren't pretty, Montana. We're rugged—"

She snickered.

"—masculine—"

His brows lowered into a glower while she laughed. "—sexy—"

Her laugh abruptly stopped as her eyes flew to his. His darkened as he leaned forward. "I am most definitely not pretty," he warned in a low, gravelly voice.

And there it was. The wolfish expression she'd seen him use on countless other women that weren't her. He looked like he wanted to devour her rather than the noodles and cheese in his Tupperware.

"Your eyes are," she murmured unthinkingly, caught up in the gaze.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, his eyes softened and the predatory expression disappeared. Part of her wanted it back.

"Thank you," he told her simply, a smile lighting his face.

She blushed and lowered her head to concentrate on the food. "You're welcome."

"I brought lemonade," Danny said abruptly, as if he'd just remember. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a large glass bottle.

Delighted by the change in topic, Lindsay responded enthusiastically. "Thank you!" Too enthusiastically.

His eyebrows shot up at her exclamation, and she grimaced. "I've had nothing but water since I woke up."

"Not even juice?" he asked disparagingly. "Are they trying to torture you?"

"I think they are, yes."

He grinned, opening the bottle and offering it to her. "Cheers then."

The first sip had her sighing in pleasure. "Contraband is so cool."

He laughed as she raised the bottle to her lips again. The sound washed over her, and a soothing satisfaction spread throughout her body. She wasn't sure she would say that the pain was lessened by his presence, but he was an excellent distraction.

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qt4good: Jen's got a long way to go before she stops feeling guilty, I think. We didn't see much of Connor here, but he's still around. And will be for some time.

Kavi Leighanna: Oh, I was bouncing with happiness after the first bout of relief passed. I've rewatched the episode a couple times already and I bought it off iTunes the next morning. I can't wait for the new episode in just a few days!

Tenley: She's awake! And I don't think Jen's at peace yet with what happened, but she'll get there eventually now that Lindsay's back in the game. Danny's reaction to Jen is still uncertain, though.

oddie33325: I never expected the Almost Kiss, for which I am soooooo grateful. I was ecstatic. I made my roommates watch it with me (I taped the episode) and now they're hooked even though they've never watched the show before. How can people not like Lindsay and Danny together??

chili-peppers: Aw, jeez. I didn't mean to scare you. : ( I love Lindsay way too much to ever kill her off. Danny's such a sweet man that I couldn't imagine he would leave her if she needed him, even if she didn't know he was there.

berta101: I think Connor's accepted that Danny is in Lindsay's life, but I'm not sure he's given up on her. They do seem like they were really close at one time, though she never returned his feelings.

Leena7: I did it! I got the chapter up before midnight! I'm so proud of myself. :-p Essay, shmessay. Always procrastinate; it's the most valuable thing you ever learn in school. At least, that's what I tell myself when I do it.

The Little Corinthian: Jen does need a hug and everyone seems to be mad at her. :-/ Oh my goodness, speaking of Danny being sex on sexy legs, I had to share this story. I was reading Glamour magazine and there was an article on women's five top fantasies and guess who starred in one of them: Danny Messer, that's who. I was shocked, but somehow not.

messermonroe: Epic as in long, drawn out and angsty with a suitable amount of fluff thrown in for good measure. But I've also decided to make this a trilogy, so after this is done, the next story will begin. Though the final story will work just as well as a stand-alone fic. I think Marissa in general was hugely overrated, though I did stop watching in the first season. Maybe she got cooler under all her tragedy?


	11. Chapter 11

A.N. Sorry this took so long, guys. I was having a spot of trouble fitting all the pieces of this chapter together.

A bit of clarification: The dreams Lindsay was having about her friends were actually memories. The surprise birthday party, the time in the lab, and the trip to the lake all happened, though the trip to the lake was modified by Lindsay's mind at the end.

I wasn't sure if that was clear during the last chapter, so I just wanted to fix any confusion.

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Lindsay had slowly roused from yet another nap, unsurprised to find her mother sitting in the same chair as when she'd fallen asleep. She watched her mother fidget uncomfortably, winding the bright pink yarn back into a ball.

"Changed your mind?"

"What?" Molly asked, startled by the sudden question.

Lindsay managed to pick her hand up enough to gesture at the yarn spread over her mother's lap. "I thought you were making a sweater."

"Oh. No. I wasn't making anything really." Molly stared at her daughter for a moment before turning her eyes back to the yarn. "Danny, eh?"

Blinking, Lindsay tried desperately to follow the conversation. He might have been there when she'd fallen asleep, but she was fairly certain that had been the day before. As certain as the morphine allowed her, anyway. "What about Danny?"

"I had my suspicions when he followed you to Bozeman, but then he just wouldn't leave."

"Leave?" Lindsay repeated, her eyes glued to the indulgent smile on Molly's face.

"The room," Molly explained, glancing at Lindsay as she tossed another skein into her knitting bag. "We had to tell the nurses he was family to get them to leave him alone."

A few of Molly's words managed to collide in Lindsay's mind, coming together to form the semblance of a coherent thought. "He wouldn't leave?"

Molly smiled again, more of a smirk this time, and shook her head. "He wouldn't leave."

Lindsay's body was numb, a fact of which she had been sure for the last week as she'd slipped in and out of consciousness. But suddenly, a warm flush swept through her and a giddy feeling pushed at her chest, trying to make it expand.

"Held your hand most of the time, too."

Her eyes whipped back to her mother's, and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Molly smiled back and shook her head again. After a moment, though, the smile fell away.

"I knew you'd never loved Connor. Not the way he wanted you to."

Pushing Danny out of her thoughts for the time being, Lindsay struggled to rope her mind back into the conversation. "You knew?"

Sighing, Molly nodded and finished rolling the last bit of yarn. She tucked the end under one of the strands and tossed it into the bag with the others.

"You've never been one to do things halfway. I knew that if you loved somebody it would be…more intense than how you were with Connor."

At the look on Lindsay's face, Molly impatiently flapped a hand at her. "I don't mean that, you silly girl. Though I suppose passion was a consideration as well." Flustered, Molly reached up to rub her temple. "I just don't really want to think about that."

Lindsay bit back a very inappropriate giggle as her mother sighed again. "I meant that, once you fell in love with someone, there wouldn't be any going back. You've never been that kind of fickle. So when you broke it off with him, I knew you'd never loved him."

Swallowing, Lindsay dropped her eyes to watch her mother's fingers as they clenched at the handles of her knitting bag. Unconsciously, she repeated the words she'd said to Jen months before. "I don't love him. We've never even been on a date."

After throwing Lindsay a surprised look, Molly chuckled knowingly. "But you could. And that's what matters really."

She had to say the words out loud; it was just too much of a relief after all this time. "I never loved Connor, Mama."

"I know, sweetie." Molly set the bag on the floor and took a deep breath. "And so did your father."

Lindsay stared at her mother, the hands already squeezing her body tightening a bit. "Then why?" If a whisper could be considered a wail, hers had been.

"Because he hoped you'd come to care for Connor that way. That you'd learn to over time. I told him you wouldn't, but he thought Connor was the best thing that could have happened to you after…"

Molly bit her lip and looked away as Lindsay struggled to catch her breath. "After he shot them."

Helplessly, Molly's wide eyes bored into Lindsay's glassy ones. "I'm sorry, Linny, I—"

"It's okay," Lindsay told her with a wince. "It's all right to say it. It's what happened."

Sidestepping that particular landmine, Molly continued. "Your father just wanted you to be taken care of. To never have to worry about what would happen to you."

"He was right. I knew exactly what my life would be with Connor," Lindsay agreed bitterly. "It just wasn't what I wanted."

"I know," Molly reassured her.

"He was so mad."

Leaning forward, Molly placed a soothing hand on Lindsay's forearm. "He sees it now. He saw it back then, too, he was just too stubborn to admit it. Not that you would know anything about being stubborn," she added dryly.

"Of course not," Lindsay told her. "I'm perfect."

Molly snorted, but otherwise made no response. As her mother stroked her arm, Lindsay felt her eyes falling shut again. She was fed up with randomly falling asleep, usually in the middle of interesting conversations, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. Narcolepsy—or bed rest as Dr. Weston liked to call it—was apparently the best cure for her.

"Do you have to go back so soon?" Lindsay asked sleepily.

She heard her mother's breath catch. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I wish I could stay longer."

Lindsay mumbled something and let sleep overtake her.

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Red faced, Lindsay smiled tightly at her friend. "Romance novels?"

"Everyone needs reading material in the hospital." Jen smirked down at her while Lindsay stared in horror at the graphic language on the back of the novels. "I thought these would be better than magazines."

"Romance novels?" she repeated, incredulously.

"You bring a guy Playboy, you bring a girl romance novels," Jen said as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"So you brought me the female version of porn?"

"Might give you some tips. A few of those are pretty detailed." Jen wiggled her eyebrows. "Now when you and Danny finally get it on you'll be ready for him."

Lindsay wanted to throw a pillow at her but knew the only person she would hurt was herself. Rubbing her temple, she felt her cheeks grow darker as she registered the scandalous positions the characters were in on the cover. Unfortunately, she really could imagine doing that with Danny. Maybe without the pirate costume, though.

"He has been coming to see you, right?" Jen asked, settling herself into the chair by Lindsay's bed.

Shrugging, Lindsay set the books on the side table. "Not as often as he was. Work's been piling up since the team's short staffed. Again," she added with a sigh.

Jen leaned back in the chair, stretching out her long legs. "Linds, he barely left the hospital while you were unconscious. Unless you want him to move in—"

"That's not what I mean," Lindsay assured her quickly. "I mean, he's been pulling double and triple shifts the last couple of weeks. He stops by for lunch or dinner sometimes, though." She frowned thoughtfully. "He looks tired. Has he looked tired to you?"

Jen fiddled with her bracelet. "Haven't really seen him."

Raising an eyebrow, Lindsay scoffed. "You work in the same building."

"I've been on desk duty. The captain decided that I needed a break after the incident," Jen intoned sarcastically, bracketing the word with air quotes.

"Is everything okay at work?" Lindsay asked with a frown, trying to read the other woman's expression.

"Everything's fine," Jen insisted with a tinkling laugh. "They just want to keep an eye on me, make sure I don't freak out next time I'm out there. They'll probably keep you in the lab for a while after you come back. Same thing."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Lindsay groaned, dropping her head against the pillow. "By the time they let me back out in the field after this little incident, I'll be old and gray."

"Ready to retire, probably." Jen laughed when Lindsay made a face at her. "So, any progress?"

Lindsay tried to hide her suspicion as Jen wiggled away from the subject of work. "Progress?" she repeated casually.

"With Danny. Did he ravish you as soon as you woke up?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "You mean, when I was hopped up on painkillers? Or when I was groaning in pain every time I took a breath?"

"So sexy," Jen said, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

Laughing lightly, hoping not to jostle her stomach too much, Lindsay shook her head. "No. Hospitals aren't exactly the place for any of that, Jennifer."

"If he's not ravishing you, what's he doing?" Jen muttered, crossing her arms over her chest petulantly.

Furrowing her forehead, Lindsay stared at her friend. Jen was obviously waiting for an answer, but something was off about her; the way she was sitting, the edge in her voice.

"I don't know," Lindsay finally said. "We talk and play cards and eat together sometimes. Sometimes he brings his palm and shows me the pictures from his crime scenes."

"Sounds like things are good." Jen's voice was much calmer now, but Lindsay still eyed her speculatively.

"They are. I mean, I fall asleep on him most of the time, but he doesn't seem to mind."

"Of course he doesn't." Jen glanced at her watch and she let out a breath. "Back to work," she said brightly, looking up and giving Lindsay a forced smile.

Lindsay's worry spiked. "Jen—"

"I gotta go," the other woman interrupted. Standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder, she started backing away from the bed. "I'll come back tomorrow after my shift. Enjoy the books."

Tossing a wink over her shoulder at Lindsay, Jen hurried through the door before Lindsay could even get a sound out. Glaring at the empty space her friend had just been occupying, Lindsay folded her arms across her chest in confusion. Jen thought she was so stealth.

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"Any word yet on when you're getting out of here?" Hawkes asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he paced restlessly in her room.

Lindsay watched as he slipped her metal chart off the end of the bed. Raising an eyebrow as he flipped it open, she shrugged. "They said next week maybe."

"That's fast," Hawkes said, his head snapping up to meet her gaze.

She shot him a surprised look. "I'll have been here for over a month at that point."

Making a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, Hawkes dropped his eyes back to the pages in front of him. Lindsay watched with affectionate exasperation as he read through her entire chart twice.

"Hawkes," she murmured, waiting until he looked up at her to continue. "The doctor says I'm going to be fine."

"They took you off the morphine," he told her as if he hadn't heard a word she'd spoken.

"Yeah." Unsure where he was going with that information, she eyed him warily. "So?"

"Well, are they sure that's a good idea. I mean, you must be in unbelievable pain."

"It's not so bad anymore." Lindsay shifted uncomfortably. "Besides, I'd rather be in pain now and have the weaker drugs than get addicted to morphine and go through withdrawal later."

This made Hawkes pause on his way to the door, obviously intent on calling the doctor to the carpet. Turning back, he faced her with his usual calm resolve. "Did that happen last time, Lindsay?"

"No," she said quickly. When he just looked at her worriedly, she sighed. Hawkes in doctor mode was a force to be reckoned with. "Almost. I think the nurses were more lax with it because I was a kid, and I'd been a candy striper there for three years."

He nodded understandingly. Relieved, she quickly brought the story to an end. "I went through a really short period of withdrawal, but I was fine."

The way he'd referred to it so casually, "last time," had made her stomach knot up. The skin around the bandages itched in response and impatience flooded her. "Isn't that in the chart?" she asked tensely.

Almost as if he were surprised to find it still in his hand, Hawkes hurriedly put the chart back in its place. Shoving a hand in his pocket, he smiled wryly. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said with a shrug.

Hawkes returned to his seat at the side of her bed. The nurses never moved the chair, though it could be considered in the way, knowing that Danny would just drag it back whenever he came.

"So if you get out in a week, what's the big plan?"

"Plan?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Party every night?"

She laughed. "Getting away from hospital food is party enough for me. But I don't think I'll be able to go too crazy any time soon."

Smiling gently, Hawkes shook his head. "Not really, no."

The wound was starting to ache again and she resisted the urge to knead at it. When the pain surfaced, it always felt like a cramp at first, though she couldn't figure out why. She'd made the mistake of rubbing it the first time it'd happened. The nurse had to give her an extra pump of painkillers into her iv for a couple days afterwards.

"I heard Danny mention he was stopping by for his dinner break today," Hawkes told her, easing himself out of the chair.

Excitement coursed through her, and she wanted to melt in embarrassment when she saw Hawkes's eyes dart to the rapidly beeping monitor. Clearing her throat, she nodded. "He mentioned he might have time today when he stopped by on Monday."

"His case is a tough one. Been busy."

Lindsay nodded again, eyeing Hawkes thoughtfully. "I know."

He met her eyes, nodding absently back. "He's been anxious since the week started. I was actually getting a little worried. I guess I know why now."

Furrowing her brow, she stared at him. "Why?"

"Hasn't been able to see you."

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Lindsay hesitated, shooting a glance at Danny from under her eyelashes. He looked adorably focused on the cards in his hand, pausing to rearrange them every few seconds.

"Is everyone mad at Jen over something?" Lindsay asked casually, pulling an arbitrary card out of her hand and replacing it next to another. It hadn't needed to be moved; she only did it to make the question seem less important, less threatening.

Because they both knew she was asking whether or not _he_ was mad at Jen.

Danny stilled, fingers lightly touched the middle card in his hand. His eyes slid slowly up to hers and locked there, no other muscle moving. "Maybe a little bit," he murmured.

"But why?" she asked, her voice cracking.

He sighed as she stared at him earnestly. Rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, he set the cards down on the bedspread. "You took her bullet. I guess people think that…" he paused and narrowed his eyes, apparently trying to find the words. "She was the one with a gun. You don't carry."

"How is that her fault?" When he started to speak, she cut him off again, gently but firmly. "It was my choice to take that bullet for her."

"I know," he said, grimmacing and reaching up to take off his glasses.

"Then why is everyone mad?"

Rubbing his eyes, he waited to answer until he'd settled his glasses back on his face. "They're not. Not really. She's been avoiding everyone, so she might think that they are, but they're not."

Tired of the run around, Lindsay raised an eyebrow, lowering her own cards. "But you are."

"No." He shook his head emphatically. "I don't blame her for you being here. But do I think she could've handled the situation in that room better? You bet."

Lindsay looked away from him. "It wasn't her fault."

"In a way, it was, Lindsay," Danny said quietly. "You can't deny that."

Stubbornly, Lindsay shook her head. "The guy was crazy. Nothing Jen did differently would have stopped him from shooting."

"You don't know that." His voice was still gentle as he leaned even closer to her. "If she hadn't gone in verbal guns ablazin', maybe he wouldn't have even pulled it."

Lindsay bit her lip. Obviously he'd heard the whole story by now. Going back over the events in her mind, she wanted to wince. She knew that Jen hadn't handled Romero the way she should have, hadn't followed the book at all. But Lindsay understood all too well why she hadn't. She couldn't blame her for that.

"Danny, I know it could've been done better," she murmured, unable to meet his eyes as she spoke. "But I also know that…if it had been me who'd let Romero go in the past, I might have acted the same way."

Finally, her eyes came up to graze his and were caught in his intense stare. Long seconds passed as they both tried to read something in the other's eyes before he dropped his gaze. Shaking his head slightly, Danny picked up his cards again.

"We've all lost our cool," she said desperately, needing him to understand, to acknowledge that Jen wasn't at fault. She wasn't even sure why.

Glancing at her, he nodded briefly. "Course we have," he murmured soothingly.

She sighed and gathered her cards up from the bed, deciding the conversation was over. A moment later, she was startled by his hand picking up her left from where it rested on her leg. Looking at him, she saw him bend his head and lightly brush a kiss across the knuckles.

Then he replaced the tingling hand back on her leg and concentrated on his cards as if nothing had happened. She swallowed spastically and cursed the invention of the heart rate monitor as the beeping reflected her pounding heart.

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"Let me get this straight," Lindsay said, her teeth clenching involuntarily. "I'm not supposed to walk far, lift anything heavier than a book, climb stairs, bend over, get too emotional…" She paused, consciously relaxing her jaw. "Am I missing anything?"

"Your elevator's tendency to crap out," Freddy said dryly.

Groaning, Lindsay let her head drop back. "I can't go home," she realized, her eyes stuck on the tiny holes in the plaster of the ceiling.

"You'll stay with me."

Freddy presented it as if it were the solution to world hunger that everyone had been missing for years. Staring at him in disbelief, Lindsay couldn't speak for a moment in her shock. "Freddy, you're supposed to be gone until next spring."

"I'll postpone the trip."

"You can't do that," Lindsay protested. "You've been planning this for a year and a half."

Freddy lifted his hands and pretended to weigh the air above each. "Article on Galapagos Islands, niece recovering from a gunshot wound. You're right. It's a toss up," he said with a mocking sigh.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Freddy," she ground out. "You live in a one room studio that you leave for exotic locations ten months out of the year."

"I moved. Few months ago."

"What?" Taken aback, she felt her jaw drop open. "But you've had that apartment for more than ten years." He shrugged. "You loved that apartment," she insisted.

"No I didn't," he said with a snort. "I only had it because I needed a place to sleep while I was in town."

A frustrated breath burst out of her. "So why the sudden move?"

"Needed more room," he answered vaguely, his eyes darting to the duffel bag he held. "Your mother packed up a bunch of your clothes and books before she left. Did you need anything else from your apartment?"

"My toiletries," she said, giving up for now. "Some of my movies maybe. My laptop. That's it."

"I'll pick that stuff up later today and come back for you in the morning."

When Lindsay remained silent, staring broodingly into the space over his left shoulder, Freddy stopped and set the duffel down again. "You are ready to blow this popsicle stand, right?"

She blinked for a moment without answering, then smiled brightly. "I don't know, Uncle Freddy. Friday chicken fingers are pretty tempting to stick around for."

"Good," he said, ignoring her joke. She barely kept her eyes from narrowing in suspicion at the aloof edge to his smile. "Remember to call your mother, would you? She's driving me up the wall."

With that, he was out the door and Lindsay's smile immediately disappeared. Something was going on with him, something he didn't want to talk about. Unfortunately, the churning feeling in her stomach told her she already knew what it was.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the greasy feeling. Did showering count as remaining on your feet for too long? Sponge baths just didn't do it for her.

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"What the hell is that?" she asked shrilly as the wheelchair came to a stop and the nurse pushed the brakes down.

Freddy climbed out of the convertible and came around to the passenger side. "It's a car."

"A Mustang convertible is not a car, Freddy. It's a collector's item." She glared at him as he bent down to help her up.

He raised an eyebrow at her vicious tone. "Your point?" he asked, sliding a hand under her arm and holding his other in front of him in case she needed to grab hold.

She took a deep breath as she stood, her legs unused to the demand. When she was on her feet and sure she wouldn't sway, she glanced at him balefully from under her lashes. "You settling down in your old age?"

They slowly walked to the car, her movements more of a shuffle than a legitimate walk. "When have I ever wanted to settle down?" Freddy asked, gently easing her into the passenger seat.

Lindsay hissed a little as she bent at the waist, but the drugs did their job and the pain ebbed quickly. Once she smiled at him, Freddy let go of her arm and gently shut the door. Striding to the driver's side, Freddy slid behind the wheel and glanced at Lindsay.

"Ready?"

"Born ready," she murmured, closing her eyes and leaning into the seat as Freddy started the engine.

Freddy didn't try to get her to talk, possibly because the extent of her exhaustion showed on her face. Or maybe he was still doing the distant thing. Whatever it was, Lindsay was content to let him direct the car through the traffic in silence.

It was rather warm, which, while uncommon, wasn't immensely surprising for late September in New York. But the hospital was air conditioned, so Lindsay wasn't at all prepared for the heat. Lindsay wrinkled her nose as her clothing began to stick to her already uncomfortable body. Sighing, she shifted, her body starting to feel like it was swollen to twice its normal size.

After what felt like hours, the car slowed and Lindsay opened her eyes as Freddy turned into a garage. Lindsay frowned as she caught a glimpse of Central Park behind them.

"Where are we?" she asked as Freddy maneuvered the large convertible into a parking space.

He waited until he'd turned off the car and unbuckled his seat belt before answering. "My building."

She gaped at him. When he was sure he wasn't going to receive an answer any time soon, he popped his door open and climbed out of his seat. Struggling for words, Lindsay pointed behind them as Freddy opened her door and slid a hand under her elbow.

"But the park," she sputtered as he pulled her to her feet.

"Yep," he said grimly, leaning her against the car momentarily as he bent down to grab her purse from the floor of the car. Straightening, he slammed the door and led her at a very slow pace towards the elevator.

"You live across the street from Central Park?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"I told you," he said impatiently. "I moved a few months ago."

"Yes, but…you didn't say…"

She trailed off in confusion as the elevator doors opened in front of them. She let Freddy drag her inside and stared worriedly at her reflection in the metal doors as they closed again. Then she noticed Freddy pull a set of keys from his pocket and insert one into the lock on the button panel.

She winced as he pressed the button marked 'p.' What was going on? This wasn't Freddy at all. It might have been the drugs, but she suddenly wanted to cry.

She barely paid attention as he gave her the abridged tour, which consisted of whatever she could see on their direct route to the bedroom she'd be staying in. The place was large, that much she could tell, easily five times the size of her own apartment and quite possibly worth five hundred times the amount she paid.

She'd known Freddy was considerably well off, particularly since the magazine paid for all of his traveling expenses. He never had to spend money on anything but the rent on his miniscule apartment. It was how he liked to live. And while this new lifestyle wasn't as lavish as some she'd witnessed since moving to New York, it was more material than she'd ever seen Freddy be in her entire life.

Collapsing onto the queen-sized bed stationed in the middle of her new bedroom, Lindsay stared at the ceiling for a long while. Even the ceiling was nicer than what she was used to, covered in natural wood beams that created large white squares. Snorting, she realized she wouldn't have been surprised if to find flecks of gold imbedded in the paint.

Closing her eyes against the proof of Freddy's sudden personality switch, she sighed and pushed her head deeper into the pillow. She should call Mac, tell him that Freddy had sprung her, but she was so tired. It would have to wait a while.

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Lindsay woke from her impromptu nap to the sound of a muffled song. Blinking blearily, she glanced around the unfamiliar room, trying to place where the sound could be coming from. As her mind came fully awake, she suddenly recognized her cell's ring and reached for her purse just as the ringing stopped.

Sighing, she slipped the phone out anyway and flipped it open. She was about to dial her voicemail inbox when the phone started ringing again in her hand.

Noting the name, Lindsay pressed the button and put the phone to her ear. "Danny?" she asked, her voice still muzzy from sleep.

"Where the hell have you been, Lindsay?"

He was angry. Surprised, she propped herself up on one arm, only to hiss in pain. "Lindsay?" he said again, starting to sound frantic.

"What time is it?" she asked. She was sure she meant to ask him what was wrong, but her mouth wouldn't quite do what she was telling it to.

"Seven. Seven pm," he shouted at his end. Reaching up, she clicked down the volume, still unsure what exactly was going on. "Three hours, Lindsay."

"Three?" she repeated breathily, letting her arm slowly crumple so she could fall back on the bed.

"I went to the hospital only to find, much to my surprise, that you weren't there. Where the hell are you?"

"Oh," she said faintly, still confused. A moment passed and she swore she could hear Danny steaming on the other end of the line.

Abruptly, she made sense of the situation. "Oh," she said again. "I'm sorry, Danny. I was going to call you, but I wanted to wait until you were off work and then I must have fallen asleep—" Hoping to stop the embarrassing babbling, she bit her lip and finally answered his question. "The doctor sent me home."

"That's strange, since I've been calling your apartment for three hours," he ground out.

"The doctor said I couldn't climb stairs."

He spat out a breath. "Shocker."

Her eyes narrowed with the first seed of annoyance. "So, my uncle took me home with him," she said, her voice letting him know exactly how she felt about his attitude.

She heard him take a deep breath and waited while he calmed himself. "So where is your uncle's place then?" he asked, his voice much more even.

This time she snorted as she remembered her earlier worry. "Upper East Side."

"What now?"

"Yeah," she said angrily. "The freaking Upper East Side. Facing the Park."

"Wait, how is this bad?" he asked in confusion.

She felt her teeth clench. "He's had the same tiny, one bedroom loft for ten years and it had more books than furniture. I think he bought the couch just so I'd have somewhere to sleep. Now he's got a four bedroom penthouse with a chandelier? What is up with that?"

Danny was quiet for a minute. "You're really upset about this," he murmured finally.

Her body deflated into the bedding as she sighed. "This place isn't him. He's dank rooms and dusty corners. Hell, he's not even in town ten months out of the year."

"What exactly does your uncle do?" Danny asked, and she heard him shifting. Briefly, she wondered where he was exactly. He had to be at home. On his couch maybe?

"He's a writer for a magazine. He goes to the places no one else wants to. He lived with a tribe in the Congo for almost a year. That sort of thing."

"Oh really?" Danny's voice was suddenly interested. "Which magazine does he write for?"

"National Geographic."

It was quiet for a moment. "Huh. No wonder he can afford a place like that."

Lindsay cleared her throat. "He's not rich. I mean, he's a writer. He's just never spent a dime he's made."

Danny chuckled. "That would do it."

Swallowing, Lindsay eased herself onto the pillows. "He's had the itch to travel since he was a teenager. He's never been one to put down roots and that's what he's doing. He's only done it once before."

"Why'd he do it the first time?"

"There was this woman…" Lindsay trailed off. "I sound irrational."

"Maybe a little," Danny admitted. "But you're still drugged up."

Nope, those had worn off. Making a face, Lindsay tried to shift herself so she could move under the blankets. Pain stabbed at her and she couldn't help but gasp.

"Lindsay?"

She whimpered in response. His drew in a jagged breath that she barely heard over the roaring in her ears. "I'm okay," she assured him, whispering the words.

"Lindsay—"

"No, I'm okay. I just…when I fell asleep, I missed pill time, that's all."

Danny was quiet for a long time as she lay completely still, willing her body to relax and stop hurting. "Are you getting up to get the pill or not?" he asked.

"Can't yet," she murmured, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

"Call your uncle." The panic was back in his voice.

She couldn't stay on the phone. "I have to go," she said quietly.

"Don't you dare hang up this phone," he growled. She heard noises like he was moving again. A rustle, then a jingling, like keys. "Where are you? I knew they let you out too early."

The last was said in a mutter, as if he were talking to himself. One tear leaked down the side of her face. "Danny—"

Now he sounded like he was the one in pain. "Lindsay?"

A knock on her door made her look up. Her uncle was standing in the doorway, lit by the light from the hallway. "Linny, are you all right?"

She tried to shake her head, but her entire body clenched in pain, making it impossible to move. Quickly, her uncle crossed the room and took the phone out of her hand.

"Hello?" he said into it, already digging through her bag for the pills. "Yeah. Yeah. She'll be fine, Messer. Would you calm down?"

Listening to generally unflappable Freddy deal with a frantic Danny made Lindsay wish she could laugh despite the torture coursing through her muscles. Abruptly, Freddy's hand was in her face, giving her a pill and a half-empty bottle of water.

"She'll call you back," Freddy said into the phone before flipping it closed.

Sitting on the bed next to her, he slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her just enough to lean her back against his body. "I should've woken you," Freddy murmured, stroking hair away from her wet cheeks.

Sniffling, she downed the pill and some of the water. A shaky breath left her as she let her head fall back on his shoulder. "Not your fault."

Pulling the blankets down the bed, he slowly eased her back onto the mattress, sighing. "I know."

Her breath caught again, and she couldn't make any more words come out. They sat silently for a moment, Freddy holding her hand as she tried to work through the agony.

When her muscles started to relax, Freddy gently tucked the covers around her. "He's a bit of a spitfire, huh?"

She frowned in confusion, finding it hard to focus on the conversation. "Danny?"

"Yeah. Your Knight in Shining Whatever."

Lindsay let out an incredulous breath that would have been a laugh had she been able to breathe properly. "Grey's Anatomy? Really?"

"Gotta do something when you're stuck in town," he quipped, adjusting her pillows.

"Sure, sure, cuz there's nothing to do in New York."

"Wise ass."

Linsday chuckled, exhausted as much from its sudden disappearance as from the pain itself. "He's not my white knight or anything. He's…" she stopped and sighed. "I don't know."

Freddy snorted. "So, you're not together, but he followed you home for the trial and then never left your bedside except when your mother kicked him out for your sponge baths."

Lindsay was horrified at the prospect of him witnessing that. "Mom is an angel."

"True," Freddy agreed with a smile. "Any better?"

"Little bit," she murmured, riding out another horrific throb.

"Try to get some sleep," he said, leaving the pill bottle and water within easy reach on the nightstand.

"Freddy," she murmured, her eyes already shut. "It's a beautiful apartment."

"Thanks." He sounded about as enthusiastic as she felt, but it was true and she suddenly very much wanted him to know that. "Now, sleep."

"Okay," she mumbled almost unintelligibly.

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Lauren: I threw in a Grey's Anatomy reference in this chapter, and I absolutely adore that show, but I wasn't consciously channeling High Meredith earlier. I should go back and watch the old episodes again (my roommate has the boxed sets…it's her fault I love that show so much). Don't worry, Danny will ravish her. Just not when she's still in pain 3/4ths of the day. : p And maybe she'll have to push him to do it…he is a bit over protective.

qt4good: I was sad that I had to write Lindsay's family out so quickly, but time lapse writing will do that, I suppose. And Danny really should just accept the fact that he's pretty and be done with it.

Leena7: Sorry this chapter took so long. Hopefully the next one will come out easier than the last. I think, even if people hadn't told her over and over again, that Lindsay would have figured out that Danny never left her side. He's being so clingy (I hesitate to use that word, but I can't think of a better one right now) that it would be obvious. I think?

messermonroe: I avoided the Epic Movie like the plague. I'm not a huge fan of spoofs and I learned my lesson about that series after watching part of Date Movie. Never again. I'm glad you like epic. I've already started working on the next story in this trilogy because I can't get some of the scenes out of my head. It's still very vague, but its very angsty. Woot. I pwn angst.

Kavi Leighanna: I totally downloaded last night's ep already. Can we say total fangirl? I'm sad that I kicked Lindsay's family out of this fic so quickly, maybe I'll bring them back. I loved writing Gordon and Danny together. But Freddy has become my favorite Monroe, and he'll be sticking around for some time. I don't quite know what to do with him though…Hmmm.

Tenley: Sorry, I should have made that more clear back in Can't Go Home Again. It was supposed to be Connor in the pictures. They were both around back then, but Freddy's actually a bit older than Danny thinks which I'll get to in a couple of chapters.

RachelHeidi: I keep thinking of that scene in 10 Things I Hate About You where Joseph Gordon-Levitt and David Krumholtz have to assure Heath Ledger that he's a very pretty guy. I didn't even think of that until after I'd written it and posted it. I couldn't stop laughing once I did. I love that movie. I hope you liked the Gray's reference.

oddie33325: Especially if they don't like them after last night's episode. I mean, I can kind of understand not wanting to watch the unexplained angst and hating that Lindsay and Danny don't talk for half the season and suddenly they're bantering again (okay, yes, these are my issues). But fundamentally not liking this couple? How is that possible?

guitar73girl: I think she has made a little peace with it and that will become clearer in the chapters to come. I just had to throw the Gordon part in there, you know? How could he stay mad when he's faced with losing his daughter yet again? Resist that, Gordon!

chili-peppers: I realized that one reason I like Jen's character so much is I seem to have unconsciously based her off of my best friend. Who is, I have to say, awesometastic (cuz she's way cooler than just awesome). It was a little disconcerting to realize, though. I hope you liked the little bit of D/L in this chapter. There'll be more in the next, I swear.

mercy4vr: Sadly, Lindsay doesn't remember the dreams she was having, but I think they helped her reach a bit of peace about losing her best friends. Jen's helping with that pain, too, which is nice. And Danny needs to accept his prettiness and move on with his life.

Murgy31: I'm glad you're enjoying the story! I hope you liked this chapter. It didn't have as much D/L as I would have liked, but next chapter, I promise: )

berta101: I hope the kiss on the hand made you swoon. Okay, maybe not swoon, cuz I don't want you falling out of your chair or anything. But I definitely felt an "awwwwww" moment when I was writing it, so I hope it came across that way. Danny is impatient (as usual, right?) but I think he's giving Lindsay space to heal. The question is…does Lindsay want that space? Hehe. I'm evil.

silverjazz: Hi! Thanks for your review! I'm so happy you like the story. It's become a bit bigger of a project than I originally thought it would be (it turned itself into a trilogy when I wasn't looking), but I love writing it. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up faster than this one was. I hope you keep reading!

The Little Corinthian: I called my dad after writing that last chapter. He's a bit of a music geek, but he'd definitely walk through fire for me. I think Lindsay and her father have a bit further to go before they completely mend their relationship (as was sort of implied in the conversation between Lindsay and Molly) but they're on their way! As are Danny and Lindsay, dontcha think? (Dude, the episode last night…they're interaction…I squealed way loudly at that grin he sends her. And since no one else in my house watches the show with me, everyone came running in to see if I was okay. And I live with a lot of people. It was a little embarrassing…)

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A.N. I glossed over the time in the hospital because I wanted to move the story forward rather than having it stuck, but let me know if you think I need to add any of it.


	12. Chapter 12

A.N. I had to replace my computer's hard disk, hence the lack of updates. Sorry guys. I was actually worried for a while there that I'd lose all my information. (relieved sigh) Anyway, here's the long awaited update! (Oh, my spellcheck still isn't working, so I hope there aren't too many glaring errors. Unbeta-ed. )

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Opening her eyes, Lindsay blinked at the bright light shining directly into her face. Immediately, she remembered the embarrassing incident on the phone the night before. She knew she'd have to call Danny back since he was most likely worrying about her, but she wanted to put if off as long as possible.

So embarrassing.

Painfully slowly, Lindsay pushed herself to her feet. Steeling herself against the pain of her wound and underused legs, she grabbed the nightstand and waited a moment to get her bearings.

She shuffled across the floor to the bathroom where she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. As she brushed her teeth, the wound began to ache. Moving as quickly as she could, she finished in the bathroom and made her way back across the room to the bed and her pills.

Grabbing the remains of the water and another pill, Lindsay carefully edged herself back under the blankets. She lay perfectly still for several minutes after swallowing the pill, willing herself back into sleep. But it was too bright in the room and she would have had to get up to pull the curtains shut, which wasn't exactly a brilliant plan according to the fire in her side.

So, she rode the pain out until the medicine started to work. After a few minutes reveling in the numbness, Lindsay dialed the familiar number and took a deep breath. She nearly groaned with happiness when all she felt was a slight discomfort in her side.

"Angell."

"Hey, Jen," Lindsay said, smiling at the other woman's brisk tone.

"Hey." Voices in the background faded as if Jen were moving away from a crowd. "How ya feelin'?"

"Great."

"Is that the valium talking?"

"I'm not taking valium, but the gist is spot on."

"Great, so you're stoned, huh? Is that like drunk dialing?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Yes, Jen, I'm stoned on pain medication."

A horn blared out of the phone and Lindsay jerked it away from her ear. Frowning, she tentatively replaced it and asked, "Where are you?"

"At a scene."

Suddenly, the tension in Jen's voice made perfect sense. "I thought you were on desk duty."

"I was." Lindsay heard the murmur of a voice that was much closer than the others. "I should probably get back."

"Yeah, okay. Hey, Jen? Are you all right?"

Jen sighed in Lindsay's ear. "I will be when I'm done with this and back on desk duty."

"Jen—"

"Can I call you tonight, Linds?" she murmured into the phone.

"Of course."

"Crap. I gotta go."

The loud click that followed confirmed that Jen had indeed hung up on her. Eyebrows raised, Lindsay flipped the phone shut and stared at it. Apparently Jen was having a worse time at work than she'd let on.

Feeling as if she couldn't honestly put it off anymore, Lindsay opened the phone and pushed speed dial three. She waited as it rang. And rang. She sighed with a twinge of relief when it went to voicemail.

"You're reached Detective Daniel Messer. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

She smirked at the use of his full name. She'd never heard anyone call him Daniel. Fleetingly, she wondered it his mother called him that, but somehow couldn't imagine it. He was just Danny.

"Hey Danny, it's Lindsay. Just calling you back. Um…I'm sorry about last night." She hesitated a beat then hurriedly added, "Talk to you later."

Absently, she hit herself in the head with her closed phone, wondering why Detective Daniel Messer possessed the ability to make her feel like a complete spaz. With a disgusted groan, she tossed the phone onto the bed next to her and wondered what she was supposed to do now.

At least in the hospital there had been tv she could complain about. And cute doctors to ogle. And visitors, lots of visitors that came and went at all hours of the day.

She'd been lying, staring at the ceiling, for maybe ten minutes when her door eased open. Craning her neck to see, she grinned when she caught Freddy doing the same thing around her door. When he noticed she was away, Freddy pushed the door open fully and stepped inside.

"Morning," he said, crossing the room.

"Hey." She shifted a bit so he could settle on the edge of the bed.

"So here's the plan for today."

Raising an eyebrow, she eyed him suspiciously. "Plan?"

"Yep. I have a meeting at eleven. Sorry, couldn't be helped. But other than that, I'm free. So I was thinking puppet show. Whaddya think?"

Stifling a laugh at the lame joke, Lindsay shook her head. "You know _The Sound of Music_ scares the hell out of me."

"Scratch that then." Clapping his hands together, he stood. "How about we start by moving to the couch?"

"Oh, thank God," she said, starting to pull her legs up.

"Wait."

Freezing, she stared at him with wide eyes. "What?"

Bending down and shoving her covers out of the way, he slid his arms under her. "You're not supposed to walk far." He carefully lifted her, watching her face for signs of pain. "Okay?"

She nodded, hooking an arm around his neck. As Freddy carried her through the apartment, Lindsay told herself it was okay that her family would always make her feel like a kid. But the thought just made her sigh.

He bypassed the large living room opening into the dining room and kitchen. As they swept by, Lindsay noted it took up the length of the penthouse, though the apartment wasn't as large as she'd originally thought. It seemed bigger because the wall that ran along those three rooms was made entirely of windows and opened onto a large balcony.

But Freddy went on to a small room through a doorway at the far end. Lindsay grinned as she was settled onto the old couch. "This looks more familiar," she murmured.

Freddy smiled wanly, which made her eyes narrow at him, and left again. "Be right back," he called, already out the door.

The room was full of his books and notebooks, piled high on the desk in the corner and stuffed into the bookshelves lining the walls. To Lindsay's delight, a large tv and dvd player were stationed across the room from the couch.

When Freddy came back in, he carried her phone and a tray of snacks that he set on the table within her reach. Then he pulled the pill bottle out of his pocket. He shook it at her. "Remember to take these on time."

Lindsay sighed, wincing with remembered pain. "Don't worry. I'm not going to forget again."

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When the phone rang in her hand that night, Lindsay jumped a mile, gasping as it momentarily tightened the muscles of her stomach. She waited for the agony to subside to a duller pain then opened the phone.

"Hello?"

"How ya doin'?"

Danny's voice was warm and she was glad she'd left the message for him, glad he'd called her back. She smiled as the last of the pain faded away.

"I'm all right. The pain meds are working now," she added, trying to joke.

"Not funny," he said on a sigh.

"Yeah, I know." She bit her lip as he went quiet. "Are you still mad?"

His voice was shocked. "Mad?"

Lindsay heard him toss keys onto a surface and squinted at the clock. "You're just getting home?"

"Court case ran late again. Why would I be mad?"

"When you called last night…" She paused and considered her choices. "You seemed mad."

When he didn't answer right away, Lindsay's breath whooshed out of her lungs in exasperation. "Danny, you were mad."

"I wasn't mad," he countered roughly. "I called all over New York trying to find you, Monroe. The doctor said you'd been released, but no one knew where you were. You weren't answering either your cell or your home phone—"

He cut himself off as his voice rose angrily. "I wasn't mad," he muttered darkly.

"Yes, you were."

"Okay, fine," he snapped. "Yeah, I was mad. I was really steamed."

Lindsay furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"I was worried." He was shouting now, and Lindsay raised an eyebrow, but let him continue uninterrupted. "Why the hell didn't you call me?"

"When I was discharged?"

"Yeah."

"Danny…My uncle dealt with all of that. I didn't even know for sure I was leaving until the night before. And I told you last week they were thinking about letting me out."

He was quiet for a long time before letting out a weary breath. "Yeah, you did," he agreed, sounding defeated.

Lindsay wished with frustration that she could see his expression. She hated having to go back to talking on the phone after having him there in front of her for so long. It was so much easier to read him in person.

"I am sorry, Danny," she murmured.

"It's all right."

"I just didn't think that—" She stopped and regrouped because, of course, she had thought. "You didn't stop by for a few days and my uncle was acting weird what with the car and the penthouse and…"

He was silent on the other end, letting her finish, but she couldn't bring herself to find an explanation. "I'm sorry," she repeated hesitantly.

"It's all right."

He seemed somewhat mollified and Lindsay let herself relax against the bed. "How was your day?" she asked, trying to shift to a normal conversation. He snorted but even that sounded exhausted and Lindsay winced. "You still pulling triples?"

"Not intentionally," he replied over a loud yawn.

"I'm sorry," she said again, regret lancing through her.

"Why are you sorry?" The annoyance in his voice made her blink, and she couldn't think of an answer. "Don't be sorry."

"All right then," she said calmly though her heart pounded at his irritation. "I'm not sorry you've been reduced to getting a couple hours of sleep every other night. Not sorry at all."

"Mac's been sending Adam into the field with us."

The abrupt change in subject had Lindsay narrowing her eyes at the dark ceiling. "Really?"

"He hates it."

His dark chuckle was malicious. Lindsay rolled her eyes. Danny and Adam had a strange relationship.

"He says he can't wait until you get back," Danny mentioned idly as though he were thinking about something else.

A flush of pleasure made Lindsay bite back a smile. She shook it off and concentrated on the conversation. "Flack been giving him a hard time?" she asked pointedly.

Danny badly covered his chuckle with a cough. "You know Flack," he said innocently.

"Uh-huh."

The conversation trailed off and Lindsay lay listening to him breathe. It was a lulling noise and her thoughts faded away as her muscles completely relaxed for the first time all day. Right up until a yawn broke the rhythmic breathing in her ear.

"You should get some sleep while you can," she murmured.

"You, too."

"Yeah."

Danny paused then spoke quickly. "I'll call you tomorrow if I get a chance."

"All right."

She waited until he'd hung up, then flipped the phone shut and placed it on the side table. Shifting against the bed, she tried to get comfortable. Having spent the last month on her back in the same position, she looked forward with longing to the day she could lie on her side or stomach. It was, after all, her favorite position to wrap herself around a pillow, nearly facedown on the mattress.

She was startled when the phone rang again almost immediately. Reaching over, she snatched it up before the ring could disturb Freddy down the hall.

"Hello?"

Jen chuckled on the other end. "Hey. I've been trying you for an hour."

"Oh." Lindsay winced. "Sorry."

"On the phone much?"

Unlike Danny, Jen sounded calm, teasing really. Lindsay's muscles eased. "I was talking to Danny."

"Yeah?" The excitement barely concealed in Jen's tone made Lindsay roll her eyes. "What'd he have to say?"

"We, uh…" Lindsay frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to her. "I think we were fighting."

"You think?"

"No, I'm pretty sure we were fighting. At least, he was. He was definitely mad," Lindsay stumbled to a finish.

"Why was he mad?"

"I didn't call him when they released me. So, he stopped by, but I wasn't there and then I'd passed out, so I didn't hear my phone."

"Jeez. You must have given him a heart attack."

"I don't see how," Lindsay countered. "I mean, where else would I have been except at home?"

"But you aren't at home," Jen pointed out dryly.

"You know what I mean. Where did he think I was?" Hearing Jen sigh on the other end made her tempter flare a bit. "What?" she snapped.

"Lindsay, you died," Jen snapped back at her. "Danny saw you being given CPR as they wheeled you inside the hospital. You were in surgery for hours and he stared out the window the entire time."

That last part—as heart pounding as it was—seemed like a non-sequitor, but Lindsay couldn't argue. Instead, she listened uncomfortably as Jen scolded her.

"He probably walked into that hospital room and thought his worst nightmare had come true after all."

"But wouldn't someone have told him I went home?" she argued weakly, finding it difficult to hold on to her indignation.

"Sure they did. But that doesn't mean he wasn't worried. And then he couldn't find you…Poor guy."

"Should I have called you, too?" Lindsay asked, her voice small and contrite.

"You did," Jen said, confused.

"But not until this morning."

"Oh, nah, you were fine. A day is completely acceptable among friends."

Lindsay smiled ruefully. "Then what does that make Danny?"

Hearing Jen's exhausted sigh, Lindsay grimaced. "I don't think anyone knows at this point."

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Lindsay stared at the colors flashing on the screen, positive she could feel her brain rotting away. Sighing, she blinked, trying to refocus on the shadowy room. Another day had passed by while she wasn't looking.

Groaning in disgust over her melancholy mood, she clicked the tv off and threw the remote onto a distant chair, determined not to turn it back on. Her eyes flitted consideringly over the closest pile of books. Freddy had been careful to set them where they couldn't be accidently toppled, but she was sure she could figure out a way to reach them.

Her phone rang as she stretched for the top book. Barely catching herself as she nearly rolled off the couch, she took a shallow breath and kicked petulantly at the blanket over her legs. Great, now she was melancholy, sulky and in pain.

Flipping the phone open with more enthusiasm than usual, she snapped, "Monroe."

It was quiet for a few seconds. "Hey there."

Lindsay furrowed her brow at the thread of amusement in Danny's voice. "Hey. You on a break?" she asked.

"Nah. Case wrapped up early. I'm on my couch."

Lindsay snorted lightly. "Me, too," she muttered bitterly.

He was quiet again. "You all right?" he asked, sounding both cautious and confused.

"I'm fine. Just tired of tv."

"Good thing I called then," he said brightly, all discomfort gone from his tone.

Laughing a little, Lindsay adjusted the cushion behind her head. "Yeah, good thing," she murmured.

"How are things at the palace?"

Lindsay glowered as she carefully shifted herself on the couch. The already sore muscles screamed in protest, but the medicine took the edge off. "It's all right here," she told him grudgingly. "But I've been here two weeks and all I've seen are the bedroom and study. I'm getting cabin fever."

"That might change once you can walk around," he pointed out calmly.

"But we rattle around in all this space. It's like he doesn't know what to do with it."

She heard Danny take a deep breath. "Lindsay," he said with strained patience. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Grimacing, she lifted the phone away from her mouth for a moment. "I'm sorry," she said when she'd brought it back. "I sound irrational again."

"Maybe a little bit." There was another pause. "Why does this bother you so much?"

She swallowed. "It'll sound stupid," she warned evenly.

"I can handle it."

"I know," she sighed. "Freddy left home when he was seventeen, right after high school, and disappeared for two years."

"Oh." This obviously wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. "Why?"

"There were a couple of reasons that I know about. I'm sure it's more complicated than what I've managed to put together, but my parents don't talk about Freddy much. Or to him, for that matter," she muttered, lightly rubbing her side.

"He never wanted to be a rancher, never had, that much I know. But I think the main reason he left then, not later, was his sister's death. She was only twelve."

"I'm sorry," Danny said.

"Yeah," she murmured. "I don't really remember her. I was only five at the time."

"What happened?"

"She and Brad were out at the pond on the Flanagan property. I guess Connor wasn't around. He never mentioned it, so I assume he wasn't there. Anyway, they were horsing around and Trix fell in the water. She must have hit her head on the dock because she never came back up.

"Brad was pretty tiny as a kid and he couldn't pull her out, so he ran for Freddy." She paused and finished simply. "She'd drowned before they got back."

"She and Freddy were close?" Danny questioned, prodding her out of her thoughts.

"Brad once told me she used to follow Freddy around while he did his chores. My dad was too much older, I guess. I think she saw him more as an uncle than a brother. He was eighteen when she was born."

"And your uncle left home after that?"

"Six months later. The day after his graduation. He didn't tell anyone he was leaving, he just cleared out his bank account and left in the middle of the night. It broke my grandmother's heart all over again. I don't think my father ever forgave him for that," she said sadly.

"We didn't hear anything for two years. I think everyone thought he was dead. Then a postcard showed up addressed to me."

"To you?" Danny sounded confused.

"Yeah. It was weird. I was only seven. I'd just barely started reading and suddenly I was getting mail." She chuckled. "He didn't say much in that first one. Just that he was in Egypt about to tour a pyramid. Told me to look em up."

"That's…random," Danny muttered.

"Yeah, that's how my parents felt."

"What happened than?"

Lindsay frowned and shrugged, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see her. "Nothing really. A new postcard would show up every six months or so, always addressed to me."

"Why you?" Danny asked quietly.

"Honestly, I don't know. Maybe he subconsciously saw me as a substitute for Trix. I was the closest he could get to her. I remember it used to make my father angry when a postcard showed up. Maybe that's why he did it."

She paused then cleared her throat. "But I do remember that, before he left, Freddy used to show me places in the big encyclopedia set my grandfather had in the living room and tell me all about them. Maybe he just saw it as a continuation of that? I don't know."

When Danny didn't interrupt again, Lindsay sighed. "We didn't see him again until I was 18. I woke up in the hospital and there he was."

"He was gone for thirteen years?" Danny asked incredulously.

"Yeah," she agreed, voice low. "He was different somehow, but I was too young when he left and too drugged up to figure out what had happened to him."

"What happened to him?" Danny repeated in confusion.

Lindsay ignored the question in his voice. "He stayed until I was walking and then took off again. He left a number I could leave messages at and a New York address. Apparently, he'd started working for the magazine a few years before.

"The next time I saw him was on my twenty-first birthday. He showed up on my parents' doorstep with a duffel bag and a full beard. Said he wanted to buy me a drink. God, I barely even recognized him. He'd been living with a group of sherpas below Everest, apparently," she said dryly.

"He was living with sherpas?"

Swallowing a giggle at Danny's resigned amazement, Lindsay shifted again, trying to ease the crink in her hamstring. "Yeah, he's a little crazy. Tried to climb the mountain, too."

"Tried?"

"Different story. Anyway. So we went to the only bar in Bozeman worth going to—"

"There's more than one?" he murmured.

"Shut up, city boy." But her voice didn't have any heat in it and she heard Danny chuckle on the other end. "He ordered me a whole slew of mixed drinks, said I needed to find my poison or something cliché like that. We were just talking and I mentioned I was going to marry Connor. And he flipped out."

"He didn't already know?"

Lindsay sighed. "It was stupid. I assumed someone would have told him, but I was really the only one that spoke to him on a semi-regular basis. And even that was strained at best. I got letters from him more often over the years, a phone call every now and then, but mostly he was unreachable. He liked the isolated places. The places no one could find you. I was never sure what that said about it," she murmured.

After a few moments, Danny prompted her. "So he flipped out."

"Yeah," she mumbled, shaking herself out of the philosophical mood. "He told me I was an idiot, that love was the only important thing in life. He'd had a few whiskey sours at this point," she explained dryly and heard Danny stifling a laugh.

"I told him I didn't have the luxury of choosing and he said it wasn't fair to Connor either. Then I asked him what the hell he knew about it, since he never stuck in one place for more than the time it took to a scale a mountain."

"Ouch," Danny murmured.

"Cold, I know. I was a bit pissy at this point," Lindsay said, the old guilt spreading through her chest. "But he didn't get mad. His shoulders drooped and I remember thinking that he looked so tired. So…old. He was only thirty two.

"That's when he told me about Marilee." Lindsay's voice grew stony. "Her father was, still is maybe, on the board of the magazine. Very high society. Only comes to work for board meetings and formal functions, you know?

"Freddy met her at a dinner, I think, and they just clicked. They only dated for four months before he proposed and she said yes. Whirlwind courtship and all. I think that's when Freddy got the apartment, determined to settle down as much as he could, I guess. But something happened.

"I don't know what her father said to her, but she gave Freddy the ring back the next morning. Freddy took off to Nepal or something pretty soon after he returned the ring. He never got an explanation and she married some other guy a year later."

Lindsay took a deep breath, feeling as though she'd been talking for years. Danny was silent on the other end. "Wow," he said finally. "That sucks."

Lindsay snorted at the understatement. "He wasn't too happy." She refrained from mentioning she'd been the one to drag Freddy back to the ranch rather than the other way around, the more tradition situation for a twenty-first birthday.

Danny waited a few beats to speak. "So what does this have to do with his shiny new apartment?"

Worrying at her lip with her teeth, Lindsay tried to organize her thoughts. "I think…" She trailed off, eyes narrowed in concentration as the argument came together in her mind.

"I think Freddy's doing all of this because of her," she said finally. "He doesn't care about money. Doesn't even like it. He used to complain about the opulent lifestyles Americans lead, particularly the higher levels of New York society. Now he's leading one. Why else would he change his mind?"

"I don't know your uncle well enough to answer that," Danny murmured, carefully leaving his tone neutral.

Setting her jaw, Lindsay stood her ground. "I know him. And this—the apartment, the car—it's not like him. High society Marilee wanted opulence and now he's in a position to give it."

"Lindsay, you don't know that she'd the reason. Maybe he just figured he needed a place to…hold dinner parties. I don't know."

"He doesn't throw dinner parties, Danny. That's the point," she snapped at him.

"All I'm saying is maybe stop giving the guy such a hard time," Danny said, through clenched teeth.

Inexplicably, she wanted to cry. When the front door closed in the foyer, Lindsay froze. "I have to go. Freddy's home. He usually brings dinner," she added inanely, as if trying to leave the conversation on a normal note.

"Fine," Danny muttered. "Have a good night."

"You, too," she whispered.

As Freddy's footsteps came closer to the study, Lindsay shut her eyes and tried to calm herself. Slowly, she inched herself into a full sitting position and waited for him to appear in the doorway.

"Hey. Sorry that meeting took so long," he said with his wide smile.

She smiled back, glad it was dark and he couldn't see the way her lips wavered. "Was it productive, at least?"

Freddy snorted and leaned against the jamb. "When are board meetings every productive? The first hour is spent sitting around talking about cigars or wine."

The disdain in his voice just reinforced Lindsay's sense that she was right. Freddy still didn't want to be part of that world, but he already had a foot in the door. She sighed and swung her legs around to put her feet on the floor.

"Whoa. Slow down, Linds," Freddy said, hurrying to the couch to help her.

"God, that smells amazing," she told him when the bag he was carrying drifted under her nose.

He glanced at her with a sly grin. "That's my dinner, Lindsay. Yours is steamed vegetables and rice."

"There's a shocker," she muttered as she accepted his help in standing. "Cuz what else is the invalid going to eat?"

He shot her a mildly irritated look. "When is the invalid going to stop referring to herself in the third person?"

"Shut up."

Grinning even more widely, Freddy began leading her to the door. "Come on, let's get you fed and back in bed."

"What's the rush?" she asked in surprise. Usually nighttime found the two of them hanging out in the study, talking or watching tv.

"You have an appointment in the morning." When she just stared at him, he shook his head with a teasing expression. "First day of physical therapy, remember?"

Excitement coursed through her, nearly making her stumble from the sudden adrenaline rush. "You mean I get to leave the apartment?"

Freddy stared at her like she'd grown a second nose. "No, she's coming here."

"Are you kidding me?" she snapped, trying to draw her arm away from his hands.

He didn't let go. "Standard procedure, Linds. You can't go out, yet."

"Bull hickey," she muttered bitterly. She eyed him from the corner of her eye. "How'd you swing it?"

"Money is a wonderful thing."

"Bastard," she said on a sigh as they crossed the living room. He didn't respond, just held her more tightly.

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mercy4vr: Freddy's apartment is definitely suspicious. Maybe Danny's right, though, and she is over-reacting a bit. Not sure yet. Luckily for Lindsay, she's now off the heart monitor. It must have been pretty embarrassing.

scoob2222: I like Hawkes acting doctor-like. I think he really would snap into doctor-mode if one of the team was sick or something.

RachelHeidi: Danny hasn't even seen her since she got out. I wonder how he's doing at work. Hawkes is probably being driven out of his mind. (evil laugh) Flustered Hawkes is Sexy Hawkes. Thanks for the hint about AIMing while watching. I've been trying to convert one of my roommates, but she's resisting since she feels like she watches too much tv already. Sigh. Silly girl.

Leena7: Freddy's pretty complicated. He'll get clearer later, I promise, but if it helps now, he doesn't spend a lot of time with people. So he's not very good at that whole interaction thing. :-p

qt4good: Grey's is an awesome show. I missed the last couple of episodes because of work, and I've been going crazy cuz (without my computer) I couldn't download them. But now I'm back online! Yay! Freddy is fairly complicated and confusing. I'm still working his storyline out, but I hope the background info helped clear him up a bit.

The Little Corinthian: My obsession with the interaction between Danny and Lindsay had me rewinding and rewatching that part where they pass each other in the wine cellar over and over again. I couldn't tell what expression is on Danny's face. It looks like he's smiling shyly as he passes her, but his face is in shadow so I just can't tell for sure. My roommates think I'm crazy whenever a new episode is on. It's kind of funny, they won't talk to me until the episode is over, despite the fact that they talk over the tv for any other show. I think I just give off the Don't Interrupt Me vibe.

Tenley: His move will be explained, though I hope the background gave some insights into his behavior in general. Gordon is still a problem; he and Lindsay haven't completely healed the rift yet. But they're on their way, which is nice. I think her family will be heading back into the story soon, at least remotely.

Lauren: I think the tension between Lindsay and Danny, paired with the fact that he gets a little nervous when he can't see her, is why they keep fighting. They're frustrated, if you will. Sorry the update took so long, but that was a lovely rendition of Shakespeare.

messermonroe: Dude, I totally pwn angst. But don't worry, the next major angst doesn't come up until the next story. Ravishing…well, let's put it this way: The story is almost over, just a few more chapters. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

serenity2bliss: Thanks! Your last review was really encouraging. I'm glad the jumping through time in the last chapter wasn't too frustrating. I'm trying to slow it down a bit, but not a whole lot can happen while Lindsay bed-ridden, you know:-p

chili-peppers: I hope Uncle Freddy is still intriguing. He's a complicated person, but I hope he's lovable. Danny was being pretty sweet. Still is, I think, but he and Lindsay are both getting a bit punchy.

oddie33325: I'm glad you're still liking it. Hopefully the updates will be more timely from now on. Stupid hard drive. (Er…I didn't mean that computer, please don't die again.)

Devilla: I think it's good that Lindsay is worrying about the people around her rather than focusing on herself (which would be understandable since she's just been shot and all). She's finally starting to look outside of herself after ten years of keeping everything in. It's definitely a sign that she's moved on.

Ashley Booth: Fluff is coming, don't you worry. They're about to start spending more time together again now that Lindsay will be up and moving around.

OneEaredGirl: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you've been enjoying the story. I'm sorry the update took so long; my computer apparently lost patience with my prolific writing. I think I just overused it. Sigh.

karakamas: Hehe, I'm glad you like it! Sorry about the sudden disappearance from the net. Sigh. I just have to keep telling my computer that I love it. It's a little needy, I think.

Lauren: Hamlet is definitely overrated. Awesome soliloquies, but the experts all say MacBeth is so much better. So why do we have to bother with that play's bastard cousin, Hamlet?

Seren23: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like the story and that you liked Can't Go Home Again. Hopefully, the updates will start happening regularly again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my computer will still love me when I come back tonight. That way, I can update tomorrow!

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A.N. Wish me luck, I'm going to try to finish the next chapter before midnight. I figure you all deserve several more updates in the next couple of days. Hopefully the new harddisk will be up to the challenge.


	13. Chapter 13

A.N. Okay, so I finished by midnight LAST night. Heh. (clears throat) Sorry.

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"Talked to Danny recently?" Jen asked languidly.

Lindsay pulled a face and twisted on the mattress, vainly attempting to find a comfortable position. Physical therapy was evil. "Not in a few days."

"Why not?"

Sighing irritably, Lindsay shifted the phone to her other ear. "I don't know, Jen. You could ask him for me. You see him more than I do."

The only thing Lindsay could hear was Jen's quiet breathing. "You okay?" Jen asked finally.

Immediately, Lindsay wished she'd never answered the phone. "Sorry, Jen," she muttered, trying to find a cool place on the pillow. "The physical therapist just left. I'm a bit…snippy."

"Snippy?"

When Jen laughed, Lindsay grit her teeth then, surprisingly, relaxed completely. The pain even eased a bit as she chuckled herself. "Yeah. Snippy," she repeated with a smile. "How are things at work?"

Jen's laughter trailed off. "Oh, things are fine, I guess."

"Still avoiding everyone?"

"I'm not avoiding them. I can't avoid them. They're everywhere," Jen said bitterly.

"That happens when you're back on cases." Lindsay bit her lip, unsure what to say to her friend.

"Yeah. God I miss desk duty."

"They're not mad at you, Jen. No one blames you for what happened."

"You're kidding, right? I'm surprised Danny doesn't have a hit out on me."

Lindsay raised an eyebrow. "Not Danny's style. He's more of a hands on kind of guy," Lindsay said coolly.

Silence echoed over the line. "That's not funny."

Lindsay took a calming breath only to pause as it stretched her sore muscles. "Jen, Danny told me they're not mad at you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Lindsay knew her mistake. Biting her lip, she waited for the shoe to drop. "You talked about me with Danny?" Jen asked, voice low.

"It was when I was still in the hospital. I was just worried," Lindsay hurriedly explained. "You seemed so stressed, and you avoided the hospital when anyone else would be there. He was the only one I could ask if you were okay."

"You could have asked me," Jen protested, her voice slightly shrill.

"I did," Lindsay argued. "But you wouldn't talk to me."

Jen didn't say anything else, and Lindsay bit her lip, listening to the labored breathing on the other end. "I'm sorry, Jen."

Jen sighed. "It's all right. It's just…embarrassing."

Lindsay waited for another response but didn't get one as Jen fell silent again. Clearing her throat, she changed topics. "Have you worked with Adam yet? Danny said Mac's been sending him into the field a bit."

"Who's Adam?"

"He's one of the lab guys. Tall, blond, has a beard."

"If he's a lab guy, why's Mac sending him into the field?"

Lindsay shifted again on the mattress. The drugs wearing off left her uncomfortable and, for some reason, itchy. "He helps collect trace. Mac needs all the help he can get right now."

"I think I worked with him once a long time ago, but we never really spoke. Haven't seen him recently." Lindsay caught her breath as a spike of pain hit her, radiating out from her side. "Linds?"

"Jen, I'm sorry, I gotta go."

"That's fine. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Good. Okay."

"Bye."

Lindsay groaned in relief as the phone fell from her ear. Lowering her arm, she grabbed two handfuls of the bed sheets and hung on.

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Freddy set the plate in front of her and settled into his chair across the table. Looking down at the chicken, vegetables and rice, Lindsay felt the urge to throw it against the far wall. The most interesting thing she'd eaten in the past three months was the lasagne Danny had smuggled to her.

She winced at the memory of Hawkes finding out about that. She didn't think she'd ever seen him as mad as he was when he told her that eating such heavy foods was dangerous right after abdominal surgery. She assumed he'd told Danny as much since Danny never brought anything else to the hospital.

And she hadn't seen him since Freddy had whisked her away to the tower. Biting her lip, she mixed the chicken and vegetables with the rice on her plate. As much as she wanted new and different foods, she wanted entertainment more.

"How's physical therapy going?" Freddy asked, taking a bite of his own rice.

She had to admit, it was kind of him to limit his own intake to whatever she was eating. Mostly. She glowered at her plate as she remembered the Indian food he'd brought home the week before.

"All right, I guess," she muttered. "It feels like it's going really slowly."

"It's only your second week."

"I know. I just want it to go faster, you know? I want to see progress."

Freddy paused in eating and looked up at her. "Linny, you made it all the way across the apartment today without collapsing. I'd say that's progress."

She glanced at him in surprise. She hadn't even noticed, but he was right. She hadn't needed his help to make it to the dining table from the den. Lowering her eyes to her plate again, she nodded. "Huh," she said quietly.

"I know it's boring, but you have to eat something," Freddy said gently. Grudgingly, Lindsay raised a forkful of broccoli and began to chew. "I spoke to your doctor. He said you need to come in for a checkup."

Lindsay's shoulders straightened. "When?" she asked, her voice vibrating with anticipation.

Worry settled over Freddy's face. "Next week. I asked him to come here, but he said he needed to do a few tests."

"Freddy, it's just across town. I can make it there and back in one piece."

She watched him try to clear the emotion off his face. "I know."

"Don't you have meetings all next week?" she suddenly remembered.

He shrugged. "I'll rearrange them."

"You can't just rearrange them, Freddy. They're board meetings," she told him, annoyed with his unfailing calm.

"Then I won't go."

"If you don't go, you'll get fired," she snapped, slamming her fork down onto the table.

"Don't talk to me like that, young lady." His voice was even, but the quirk of his eyebrow told her he was not happy with her temper. Then he lowered his gaze back to his food.

Taking a deep breath, Lindsay pushed the anger back. "Look," she said, trying to sound reasonable. "There are other people who can take me to the doctor."

"Danny is not taking you to the doctor on his motorcycle," Freddy told her, not bothering to look up from his plate.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Lindsay just kept breathing evenly. "What about Jen? She has access to a nice safe four door. Hell, it even has lights on the roof."

Freddy flicked his eyes up at her without raising his head. "Is she free on Wednesday?"

Relief spread through her. "Yes." And if she wasn't, she could be.

"Fine."

"Good."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Lindsay tried to eat steadily so Freddy wouldn't baby her anymore than he already was. The cabin fever was settling in full force and her bad temper seemed to finally be getting on Freddy's nerves. Or maybe it was that he'd been in one place for three months. He wasn't good at that.

"By the way," he said casually. The sheer carelessness of his tone made her eyes narrow at her plate. "I'm throwing a dinner party here in a few weeks for the big donators to the magazine."

Lindsay frowned. "You're having them here?"

"Mmhmm. Only about thirty or so people."

Nodding, Lindsay stared worriedly at her plate. She'd been his date to these things before but they'd always been at fancy restaurants. Toying with her fork, she silently worried about the new development.

Freddy sighed. "Lindsay, you have to eat."

"I'm not really hungry," she told him.

He stared at her for a moment, apparently deciding she was telling the truth. "All right. Do you need help?" he asked as she stood with her plate.

"No, I'm fine."

But she felt his worried eyes on her as she stuck the plate in the dishwasher and slowly made her way across the apartment to her bedroom.

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"You live here?" Jen asked incredulously as Lindsay opened the front door for her.

"No, my uncle does," Lindsay said, shutting the door and pausing to lean against the wall.

Worriedly, Jen touched her elbow. "You all right?"

"Those last couple steps are a doozy," Lindsay muttered with a small smile before shoving away from the wall.

"Maybe you should sit. What are you doing walking around like this anyway? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Lindsay was slowly realizing that, in most situations, having Jen snap at her was akin to having her mother stroke her hair. So she answered as mildly as she could. "I'm just following the doctor's orders."

"The doctor told you to wear yourself out?" Jen muttered under her breath as Lindsay pulled on her coat.

"No, my physical therapist told me I need to use the muscles. So, I take a few turns around the apartment."

"How many laps make a mile?" Jen asked, her arms folded across her chest as she surveyed the great room.

Lindsay snorted and they moved back towards the door. "Sorry, no tour today."

"There's more than that?" Jen asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder as Lindsay opened the front door.

"Not really, just the den and the bedrooms. The deck's pretty cool, though. I've been sneaking out there when Freddy's gone."

"He leaves you alone?" Jen frowned, following Lindsay into the elevator. "Shouldn't he stick around. You know, in case you need him?"

Lindsay stifled a sigh. "He did at first, when I couldn't get around on my own. But now it seems silly to tell him to put his life on hold."

The elevator ride was quick, and they were out in the October breeze before Jen could think of a response. Lindsay wanted to giggle as Jen goggled at the valet, who already had the car ready by the time they left the lobby. She patiently let Jen fuss over her as she climbed into the car, knowing that if she didn't Jen would just hover around her, worrying.

"So you and Danny haven't made up yet, huh?" Jen said, buckling her seatbelt.

Lindsay furrowed her brow in confusion. "I didn't think we were on the outs."

"When was the last time he called?"

"Not since we fought about Freddy," she admitted after a moment. "But it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Well, let me just say that Danny Messer is as close as I ever want to get to a grizzly bear."

Lindsay winced. "What's wrong?"

"I have no idea, but I saw him taking a guy's head off in the lab on my way out."

Danny never yelled at the lab techs. "Why?"

Jen shrugged. "I don't know. He was saying something about his results not being fast enough. But I didn't stick around to catch the gist."

Chewing on her lip, Lindsay looked out the window. "He's probably just stressed."

"Maybe. Our case is pretty strange, so that might be it." When Lindsay's eyes lit up, Jen chuckled. "Body found in a rest stop bathroom just outside of the city, obviously dumped there. Prints all over her body, different enough for more than two sets."

"Weird," Lindsay agreed. "Have you guys gotten any hits with AFIS?"

"Not a one so far, but he was still running them when I left. At least, he was supposed to be," she muttered.

"That's probably it then. He gets grumpy when he's frustrated."

Jen pulled a face. "Then I hope he gets a hit soon, cuz he's a little scary when he's mad."

Lindsay shrugged. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"No, you don't have anything to worry about. The rest of us are in the line of fire."

Rolling her eyes, Lindsay leaned her head back against the seat. "He's all bark," she murmured as her lids fell shut.

She heard Jen laugh softly and then settle into silence. She let herself drift as Jen steered them through the midtown traffic. A few moments later, she was being shaken awake. "Linds, we're here."

Groggily, she opened her eyes and stared blankly at the parking garage. She was still out of it when Jen pulled the passenger door open and barely managed to undo her own seat belt.

"All right, Monroe, let's get a move on. You ready?"

Mumbling an affirmative, Lindsay let Jen tow her into the building, still trying to shake the sleep from her mind. She felt Jen glance at her worriedly as she sank into a chair in the waiting room, but she tried her best to appear normal and not ready to keel over at a gust of wind.

The wait was relatively short and a nurse soon appeared to take Lindsay's height, weight and blood pressure. By the time they were ushered into the doctor's office, Lindsay felt marginally more aware of her surroundings. Jen followed her in without asking, but Lindsay wasn't about to protest.

"Good afternoon ladies," Doctor Weston said with a smile as he stepped through the door.

"Hi, doctor," Lindsay said, the usual self-consciousness of sitting on an exam table coloring her tone. Jen nodded and smiled politely, but she and the doctor didn't know each other, so she stayed quiet.

"How've you been?" he asked, flipping through her chart.

"All right, I guess. I started physical therapy last week."

He looked up from taking notes. "And that's going well?"

She shrugged. "I think so. I still get tired pretty easily, though I've been walking around more."

"Don't over do it," he warned her and she nodded. "But it's a good idea to work those muscles. Why don't you lie back?"

Staring at the ceiling while he lightly probed her stomach, Lindsay clenched and unclenched her fist. His hands were cold, but she bit her lip and tried to deal with it.

"Have you been following the diet I gave your uncle? Take a deep breath."

"Yes," she said bitterly after she'd breathed out.

The doctor chuckled. "You should be good to eat whatever you want now, just nothing too heavy."

"Like don't eat a whole pizza?" Jen asked with an innocent expression.

Lindsay glared over his shoulder as the doctor blinked in surprise. "Well, I hardly think Miss Monroe indulges in that on a regular basis," he said mildly.

Jen smirked and Lindsay shifted a little on the table in embarrassment. "It wouldn't cause you much trouble, really," he continued thoughtfully, as if the proposition intrigued him. "Though it would be pretty painful, I'd imagine. You don't want to stress your stomach too much while your abdominal muscles are still healing."

Lindsay nodded, hearing the paper sheet crinkle under her head. "But otherwise, I can eat whatever I want?"

"That's right," he said with a small smile. Then he lifted her shirt and carefully pressed the area around her fresh scar. He frowned lightly in concentration as he worked and Lindsay hoped Jen couldn't see around him. "Looks like it's healing nicely."

With another smile, he settled her shirt back in place and moved to the cabinets along one wall. "It seems you've lost a little weight," he said, his voice still smooth and even.

Lindsay shifted into a sitting position. "I guess so. I haven't been very hungry."

The doctor nodded. "Understandable. Especially when taking pain medication. However, weight loss while your body is trying to heal isn't helpful. I want you to keep an eye on that. Let's make another appointment for a couple of weeks from now."

"All right," she murmured, surprised that the appointment had gone so quickly.

"How are you doing on painkillers?" he asked. "Is the percocet still working for you?"

"I haven't needed it as much. I'm down to one or two times a day."

The doctor nodded with an expression of concerned interest. "Is there a time of day the pain is worst?"

"Usually it starts to get bad in the evening," she said, nervously fiddling with the fabric of her yoga pants. "The rest of the day I'm just sore. It's a bit worse now that I've started physical therapy. Sometimes I wake up with a bad cramp."

"That's common," the doctor assured her. "But it sounds like it might be time to move on to something a bit more mild. I'll write you another prescription for the percocet just in case, but let's try something less overwhelming for your better days."

Lindsay watched as he scribbled furiously then ripped the sheets off his pad. She took the prescriptions and carefully slid off the table. "I'll see you in two weeks then," she said.

The doctor held the door open for them and followed them into the hallway. "You look good, Lindsay. Keep up the good work."

Jen and Lindsay watched him stride down the hallway away from them. "Did he just hit on you?" Jen asked.

Lindsay laughed and started towards the pharmacy. "He meant I'm healing well. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Excuse me, I have a gutterless mind. Silk sheets all the way."

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Lindsay was on the deck when Freddy came home later that afternoon. She knew the minute he spotted her because he froze, his face still indistinct across the distance of the room.

Sighing, she stood and made her way through the double doors. "Hey, how was your meeting?"

"Fine," he said, eyeing her speculatively. "Should you be out there?"

"You think I'm going to fall over the railing?"

He was obviously struggling to rein in his overprotective instinct. "The doctor said it was okay to go outside?"

"He said I'm healing nicely and to keep doing what I've been doing. Better, he said I could eat whatever I want. No more rice and vegetables," she cried, pumping her fist in the air victoriously. She spoiled the effect by yawning immediately afterward.

"Tired?" he asked, the worry still eating at his tone.

"I'm fine," she said, waving off his anxiety.

"Don't worry, I have something that'll help," he said, pride in his voice.

She smiled a little at his excitement. "What?"

He held up a finger and disappeared back through the front door to the entryway in front of the elevator. The door blocked her view, and she craned her neck to try and see around it. He grinned as he came back inside, pushing his prize through the doorway.

"Is that a wheelchair?" she asked without emotion.

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The day had dawned as painfully as the day before, but she'd awoken with a determination she hadn't felt in the past few months.

That emotion found a concrete outlet as she swung her legs over the side and shuffled across the room. Today, she would shower. No more baths, she was done with them. She smiled throughout her morning ablutions and didn't even flinch when she collapsed back in the bed in a painful heap, sore from standing for too long. She'd made it across the room, the rest would come eventually.

And without a bloody wheelchair.

Sighing, she picked up her phone and considered the next hurdle in her life. Lindsay stared at Danny's name highlighted on the screen, chewing on her lip. It bothered her that she hadn't heard from Danny in so long. She couldn't believe it had taken her a week to consider that he might be mad at her. The idea left a hollow feeling inside her stomach. She'd just assumed he was busy with his case load.

Before she could think too much about it, Lindsay pressed send. It went straight to voicemail and she sighed, leaving a vague message. Then she tossed the phone across the bed and stood again, determined to make the most of her new mobility.

Grabbing a book and her sunglasses, she slowly shuffled her way to the deck. Taking a deep breath of, unfortunately, smoggy city air, she coughed and sank down onto the lounge.

"Oh, hello there."

Lindsay barely refrained from jumping out of her skin. The older woman blinking at her from just inside the doorway smiled brightly."Are you Lindsay?"

"Uh," Lindsay said intelligently, wondering how this woman had gotten in to Freddy's fortress of a penthouse.

"I'm Mrs. Callahan. The new housekeeper," the gray-haired woman prompted, obviously expecting Lindsay to recognize the name.

"Yes, of course," Lindsay murmured. The manners her mother had deeply ingrained in her finally kicked in and she smiled tensely. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Well, I won't get in your way, dear. Did you want some breakfast?"

"Oh, no, no," Lindsay said, waving her hands. "I'm fine. But thank you."

"Just let me know if you change your mind."

Lindsay smiled and nodded again. Mrs. Callahan, apparently satisfied with the conversation, smiled back and disappeared into the recesses of the apartment. Staring after the older woman, Lindsay tried to unfreeze the smile from her face.

What the hell was going on with Freddy?

Two hours later, Lindsay managed to sneak into the kitchen when Mrs. Callahan was cleaning the bedrooms. She'd tried to fetch herself glasses of water in the preceding hours, but had always been stymied by an overly helpful housekeeper.

Mrs. C—as she preferred to be called—kept a pitcher of fresh lemonade in the fridge and brought Lindsay full glasses every half hour. Mrs. C liked Irish folk ballads, but was perfectly willing to change the music if it bothered Lindsay. Mrs. C constantly produced snacks, the sheer variety of which amazed Lindsay.

All she wanted was a sandwich and there was no way in hell she was asking Mrs. C to make one for her.

So, Lindsay bided her time as the housekeeper carefully cleaned every window, dusted every surface and mopped every inch of the great room. Lindsay had to hand it to Mrs. C; she was very thorough. Finally, though, the older woman finished with the living room and kitchen and wandered into the back rooms of the apartment.

Lindsay hurriedly built her sandwich, jumping at every small noise and trying to withdraw to the deck again before Mrs. C noticed. She heard the elevator ding and a few seconds passed before Freddy's key could be heard in the lock.

Shuffling through his mail, Freddy looked up as he dropped his keys on the hall table and paused when he spotted Lindsay in the kitchen. "Hey," he called.

Lindsay watched as he tossed the mail down next to the keys and glanced around the apartment. "She's in the back."

Nodding, Freddy started towards her. "She's nice, right?"

"Very." Lindsay shoved the top piece of bread down on the sandwich, reveling in the crunch the lettuce made.

She could feel Freddy eyeing her. "What're you doing?"

Lindsay glared hotly at him. "Building an airplane."

"All right, Your Snarkiness, what's wrong now?" Freddy asked, leaning against the counter.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Which is, of course, the point."

Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not following."

"I can make my own sandwich and fetch my own water," she hissed, hoping the nice woman down the hall couldn't hear them. "I don't need a chef to do it for me."

"She's a housekeeper, not a chef."

"Semantics." Pulling out a knife, Lindsay violently cut the sandwich down the middle.

"So she kept trying to feed you, huh?" Freddy asked with a smile. "Sounds like Molly."

"Freddy, I don't need you to hire servants to do things for me," Lindsay told him, ignoring the question and comment.

Straightening, he opened a cupboard and took out two plates. "I hate cooking and I hate cleaning. So I hired someone to do it for me."

"How bourgeois," Lindsay muttered.

Freddy ignored her, setting the plates on the counter. "I don't see how this was a direct attack on your independence."

Lindsay put half of the sandwich on each plate and waited as Freddy pulled out a bag of chips. "You didn't have one before," she pointed out, grabbing two bananas from the fruit bowl.

"We didn't have fruit before she came either," he countered. "I always forgot to go to the store. Mrs. C is a preemptive strike against starvation."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, picked up both plates and headed back out to the deck. "There's lemonade in the fridge," she muttered, sliding her sunglasses back down on her nose.

Freddy followed a few minutes later with two glasses and napkins. "You think I'm being overprotective?"

"If the wheelchair fits," she said, biting into her sandwich.

Freddy sighed impatiently. "I thought it was a good idea." She shot him a look over the edge of her sunglasses. "Apparently, I was wrong," he mumbled, picking up a chip.

Then her phone rang and Freddy eyed it with irritation. "God I hate cell phones," he muttered, standing and taking his food with him.

Lindsay smirked at his back. Flipping the phone open, she craned her neck to see if he was really gone. She caught a glimpse of him as he disappeared down the hall. "Monroe?"

"Hey, got your message." She was so surprised to hear Danny's voice she couldn't think of the proper response. "Lindsay?"

"Hey," she murmured after a moment. "How are you?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'm good. I started physical therapy." Blinking, she pulled the phone away from her ear. That was her big conversation starter, physical therapy stories?

To her surprise, he actually sounded interested. "Oh really? How's that going?"

"So far, fine. The doctor says I look good. You should've seen Jen's face when he said that. She thought he was hitting on me," she said with a laugh.

Danny was silent. "But, uh, he wasn't," Lindsay continued nervously.

"Jen took you to the doctor?"

Lindsay let her eyes slide shut with a wince. She really just couldn't do anything right these days. "Yeah. Yesterday. Freddy couldn't take me. He has meetings all this week," she added inanely.

"He's leaving you alone during the day?" Danny said. His voice had a thread of anger in it, but she tried her best to ignore it.

"Didn't you hear me? I started physical therapy. I am officially mobile again." She glanced over her shoulder as Danny chuckled in her ear. "Which brings me to why I called you," Lindsay said, making a quick decision.

"Aw and here I thought you were missing my pretty face," he teased.

"Well, that too. But I'm breaking out, wanna come?"

"Uh…what?"

Sighing, she backpeddled. "My uncle's driving me insane. He won't let me do anything for myself." She paused as the irritation bubbled up. "He got me a freaking wheelchair."

"You don't need a wheelchair," Danny said mildly to show he understood.

Adoring him silently for a long moment, she waited for the emotion to pass before continuing. "Exactly. I need to get out."

"What'd you have in mind?" he asked warily.

"Anything that gets me outside," she murmured. "Wait a second."

She paused and listened for a moment. Her uncle's footsteps sounded on the marble in the foyer. "Crap. I gotta go, he's coming back. Are you off tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Danny said, obviously overwhelmed by the conversation.

"Come over around lunch time, all right?" Quickly, she whispered the address to him. "He should be in his meeting by then."

"Er…okay."

She hung up as she heard Freddy near the doorway. "Who was it?" he asked, looking down at the stack of mail in his hand.

"Danny," she answered, eyeing the white envelopes. Had Freddy cancelled her mail? Too tired to fight about it if he hadn't, she let the moment pass. "Anything interesting?"

"Bills." He shook his head and leaned against the doorjamb. "Never really had to deal with those before."

Biting back a smile at his bewildered expression, she settled her head against the cushion. "They're not as confusing as they seem."

He sighed and moved back into the shade of the apartment. Lindsay rose from the chaise and followed with her plate. She was relieved to see that Mrs. C was still busy in the back rooms.

"Plans for the weekend?" she asked, biting back a remark as he took the plate from her hand and began to wash it.

"Not really," he said, rinsing the soap away. "Why?"

Lindsay shrugged. "You just never seem to go out anymore."

"So?"

"So, for a while there, you were never home," she explained. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he grumbled, putting the plate in the rack and wiping his hands on a towel.

"Okay," she drawled, drawing out the first syllable. "There's nothing strange about a man who has a lunch date every Saturday for two months then suddenly stops leaving the apartment except for meetings. Nothing at all."

His eyes narrowed and he tossed the towel haphazardly on the counter. "You're planning something."

Blinking, Lindsay felt her brow furrow at the sudden shift in conversation. "Like what?"

He eyed her speculatively. "I don't know yet."

Smiling sarcastically, Lindsay turned away. "Rest easy," she said as she crossed the room. "It's not like I could get anywhere without my trusty wheelchair."

"Very funny," he called after her.

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messermonroe: I'm working on, I swear. And look! Next chapter they'll be seeing each other face to face. Gasp!

Tenley: Yay! I'm glad you liked Freddy's backstory. And I hope the face time they'll get next chapter will put an end to the frustration and fighting.

chili-peppers: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. It felt a little anti-climactic after a few weeks of silence on my part, but the next few will be more progressive, I promise.

Od: Let the csi obsession grow! I'm glad your sister is enjoying the story, too. The DL love is spreading. Should have another update by tomorrow, but we all saw how well that worked out on Sunday. Sigh.

Devilla: No, no, didn't forget. I have major plans for this story. I just lost my poor little computer. Sniffle. It's amazing how dependent I am on this little machine. Everything was on here: my email, all my writing, homework files, even my address book and schedule! I felt so lost. Anyway. DL face to face time is coming up in the next chapter, which should be up tomorrow. Yay!

berta101: Next chapter holds the "aw" moment you're searching for, I promise. (looks mysterious)

qt4good: A couple of months are supposed to have passed since the shooting, so Angell was on desk duty for awhile. But they needed her back on homicide so off she goes (despite her own reservations). She's back on cases now. I don't think anyone was really giving her a hard time per say. I think they were all a little reserved since the incident was questionable, but, like Danny pointed out, she's been avoiding everyone pretty thoroughly except to talk to them about case stuff. I'll try and include some more details on Jen's issues.

silverjazz: Oh no! Don't forget about us! I swear I'll update in a more timely fashion now that my computer's back. Freddy's backstory will be important later on, perhaps in the final story of this series (it's going to be a trilogy), so I'm glad it's interesting. It is sad, isn't it? I feel bad for him. Sometimes I'm so mean to my characters. Speaking of my evilness, Lindsay and Danny actually get some face time in the next chapter, so that'll help with their frustration, I think.

maqatty: Don't worry, Freddy's not a bad guy. He's just bad with people. And it doesn't help that Lindsay's been so snarky lately. But he's really not so bad. More Danny and Lindsay in the next chapter, I swear!

mercy4vr: Poor Danny is right. He's having to deal with a half-crazed Lindsay, worry about her health and work over time for her absence at work. I'm surprised he's still as sane as he is. It's not all that shocking that he's losing patience.

The Little Corinthian: Oh that sexy spectacled detective will be around to distract her next chapter. I can't believe there's a new episode tomorrow night. Too good to be true! I wonder if Danny and Lindsay will be on a case together again. Two in a row is too much to wish for, though, right?

ReJo: No worries, face to face interaction will be next chapter. I think most of the tension will disappear after that. I'm trying to keep the chapters manageable but they keep getting away from me. I'm glad you like long ones.

Lauren: Dude, no worries. You were not pushy at all. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm just sorry my computer decided to crap out in the middle of it. Seriously, what do we need to know about Hamlet? Guy sees ghosts (obviously paranoid schizophrenic) and plans to kill his stepfather (Oedipus anyone?). Done. MacBeth is much cooler.

hurricanerosie: The fighting will end, I promise. I think Lindsay just needs to get away from home base for a while. She's been stuck there for like a month. But next chapter she gets out and about. With Danny no less.

Mnemosyne01: Oh no! Headaches aren't good. I'm sorry! But the fighting ends, I promise. They're both just a little restless and neither is good at dealing with it. I understand the Lent troubles: I gave up snack food for Lent. The past few days have been extremely unhealthy for me.

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A.N. Gonna have the next chapter up before the episode tomorrow night, I promise!


	14. Chapter 14

A.N. Ha! I did it! I finished it by my self-proclaimed deadline. A first for me, I think. This chapter is uber long. It was supposed to be short, but I think I'm feeling the lack of DL and I went a bit crazy here. Heh. Whoops.

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It was strange, but when she saw him across the lobby the next day, it didn't feel as if any time had passed. She knew he'd spotted her at the same time and was glad her muscles weren't stiff. Her gait was almost smooth as she crossed the room, shocking considering his eyes were locked on hers the entire way.

As she came to a stop in front of him, they stared at each other expressionlessly. A flicker of movement to her side caught her attention. The doorman was eyeing them, and Lindsay knew they had to leave before he decided to intervene on her behalf.

"Hi," she murmured with what she could feel was a shy smile spreading over her face.

He smiled back down at her. "How ya doin'?"

"You ready?" she asked, letting her eyes flick to the doorman warningly.

His smile deepened into a mischievous smirk. Wondering what he'd done to put the doorman on alert, she eased around Danny and stepped into the sunshine. Slipping her sunglasses down onto her nose, she waited for Danny to step up next to her.

"So, what are we doing?"

"We're having a picnic."

For the first time, she noticed the basket he held in one hand. "A picnic?" she repeated, her eyes darting up to his face.

He shrugged. "You said you wanted to be outside."

"But it's October."

"Point being?" he asked, his eyes dancing behind the tint of his lenses.

She floundered for words but eventually just murmured, "Let's go then."

Grinning, he started leading the way to the corner. She followed, struggling to keep up with his long steps.

Locked so far above the ground, she'd almost forgotten how noisy New York streets were. It was nearly impossible to carry on a conversation between the yelling on the sidewalk and the roar of the cars, but she hadn't seen him in a month so she couldn't keep quiet.

"So, your uncle's going crazy, huh?" he asked, beating her to the conversation opener.

"No, I'm going crazy," she said as they waited for the light to change. "He's just being his usual over-protective self."

"Was he like this last time?" Danny asked as they crossed.

Lindsay waited for the usual panic to set in at his casual mention of Montana, but none came. Bemused, she shrugged and tried to turn her mind back to his question. "Not really. My dad was doing fine in that role by the time Freddy came along, and he's always liked sticking it to my dad. He might have been playing it casual last time just to tick Dad off. They don't get along, you might've noticed."

Danny shifted the basket to his other hand so it wouldn't brush against her as they moved down the path leading into the park. "Maybe a bit."

"Not on their best behavior, huh?" She sighed at his silence. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Families get tense in stressful situations. The baby of the family being shot? That's a stressful situation."

"Yeah, but they could have waited until you weren't in the room. I swear they usually behave very well around company."

"I sure hope that wasn't their best behavior," he teased.

"Would it help if I said they were raised by wolves?" she asked brightly.

A thrill shot through her when he laughed. She grinned at him, so happy to be with him that she almost forgot to enjoy just being outside. It really did feel as if she'd broken out of a prison. All the colors seemed brighter off the almost clinical whiteness of Freddy's walls.

He turned off the path onto a grassy field so suddenly that she kept going for a couple of steps. He whistled after her to catch her attention as she stumbled to a stop. "Hello. Where ya goin', Montana?"

Rolling her eyes, she stepped onto the grass and watched in fascination as he pulled a blanket out of the basket. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. She never thought she'd see Danny Messer spreading out a picnic for her in Central Park.

The blanket settled against the grass and he placed the basket in the middle before sitting next to it. Easing herself down across from him, Lindsay stripped off her hoodie to enjoy the Indian summer heat.

Danny smiled at her and leaned back on his hands, tipping his face to the sun for a moment. Watching the light glint off his hair, she felt her stomach crumple in fear. Fear that he'd go away again. She knew it was stupid, but the fear was there, clogging her throat, and she knew she needed to ask him why he'd disappeared.

Lindsay fidgeted with the edge of her shirt. "Danny?" she asked quietly, not looking at him. "Why haven't you called?"

Her eyes flicked up in time to see him still, his muscles tensing even in his half-reclined position. Then he slowly let out a breath and straightened a bit. "I was waiting for you to make the first move."

"Ah," she said, dropping her eyes back to her shirt.

"I wasn't sure you wanted to talk to me. I mean, you're in pain and I yelled at you." His voice was low but intense, and she could hear the self-recrimination thick in his tone. Oddly, his accent became more pronounced. "That's the last thing you need right now."

"Even if I deserve it?" she asked evenly, tilting her head to the side and finally meeting his eyes head on.

His face softened. "Lindsay, you didn't deserve it."

"I'm fully aware of what a pain in the ass I've been," she argued, sitting up and folding her legs. "Believe me. Petulance is not an attractive trait, I know."

He seemed to be at a loss for words and she smiled to show she didn't need comforting. "Sometimes I need a kick in the butt. Yelling at me isn't going to break me," she added gently, and his eyes dropped to the basket between them.

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, a thread of amusement working its way through his voice.

"You do that."

He grinned at her as she stretched her legs out along the blanket. "So you and Freddy been fighting?" Danny asked abruptly.

"Not really fighting. Bickering, I guess." When he looked at her questioningly, she shrugged. "We've always been more like siblings than uncle and niece. Besides, as we just established, I haven't exactly been fun to be around," she added, shaking her head with a wry smile.

"You mean you're not all sunshine and roses? Gee, I'd never have guessed."

She winced, but the smirk on his face told her he wasn't in attack mode. "I'm sorry. I've been a bit prickly." At his raised eyebrow, she amended, "All right a lot prickly."

He leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm just…frustrated," she ground out. "It's so boring being locked up in the same rooms all day long for months on end. I feel like I'm going crazy."

"So, how's it feel then?"

She stared at him blankly. "What?"

"Breaking out," he elaborated, gesturing at the trees around them.

She lifted her face to the sun for a few seconds then lowered her head to beam at him. "Wonderful. Thank you for coming."

Grinning back, he locked his eyes with hers and long seconds went by where she felt she could almost breathe easily again. Breaking eye contact, he flipped open the basket and pulled out an apple. "You hungry?"

"No, but you go ahead. I just want to lie here for a second," she told him, straightening her legs back out in front of herself.

Her small converse clad foot lay near his hand, and she noticed his gaze resting on it as he raised the apple and took a bite. Letting her head fall back, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her face. It was a hundred times better than being on Freddy's deck.

Slowly, she became aware of the heat of his gaze on her. The silence between them grew thick and hot and she swallowed convulsively. Suddenly she felt self-conscious about the way the hem of her shorts rode up on her thighs and how her shirt stretched across her breasts with her arms pulled back like they were. Despite the discomfort, she couldn't force herself to move.

"I thought you hadn't been outside at all."

Luckily, the sound of his voice broke the paralysis he seemed to have cast on her. Opening her eyes, she frowned, trying to hide the tumultuous emotions running through her. "Well, I've been lying on Freddy's balcony if that counts."

"Ah." He smiled innocently at her as she studied him. "What?"

"Why in the world would you ask that?"

He gestured at her legs. "Tan easily?"

She glanced down at the smooth skin of legs, exposed to the sun by her shorts. "I'm naturally brown," she said primly, raising her eyes back to his.

He leered wolfishly though she couldn't discern the reason. "Are you now?"

"Why do you think Brad and Connor call me Mouse?"

He ignored that and let his eyes trail over her body. The heat in his gaze made her cheeks burn so hotly that she wondered if her entire body was flushed, but she refused to lower her eyes from his face to check.

"Everywhere?" he asked, his gaze finally returning to hers.

Momentarily, the urge to hit him rushed through her. Then let her lips curve into a coy smile. "Maybe."

His eyes widened a bit behind his sunglasses. Victorious, she tipped her face back to the sun and proceeded to ignore him. She heard him mumble something in Italian and then he was rummaging noisily in the basket.

Starting to lean back, she hissed in pain and froze as her stomach cramped. Opening her eyes and placing a hand on her abdomen, she saw Danny jerk forward and smiled ruefully. "I'm okay."

His expression was disbelieving as she took a slightly deeper breath. She forced her sore muscles to relax and smiled at him again. "All right?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she murmured, running a hand through her hair.

He watched her for another minute before his chest rose in a controlled breath and he reached back in the basket. "You gotta be hungry by now," he murmured in a carefully mild voice.

"Not really," she told him, eyes locked on his hands as he pulled item after item out. "Jeez, Danny. How much did you pack?"

"After watching you polish off half an extra large pie, I'm not taking any chances."

She laughed at his serious expression. "I'm sorry," she said after her chuckles died down.

His hands stilled and he wrinkled his brow. "For what?"

"I haven't been all that hungry lately," she explained, her hand unconsciously coming back to her stomach.

His eyes followed the movement, his expression inexplicably sad. Dropping his eyes, he went back to unpacking. "Oh. Don't worry about it."

She let her eyes rest on him, trying to memorize the way the sun lit up his skin. She was—embarrassingly enough—fascinated by his legs. She'd never seen him in shorts before, and his calves looked as strong as the rest of him. She blushed when she found herself wishing that men's shorts weren't the length of capris.

"What's with you?" he asked, his voice warm and vaguely amused.

Her eyes jumped up to his face and she bit her lip guiltily. "Huh?"

"You're flushed," he said, having stilled with one hand in the basket. His eyes narrowed as he studied her.

"I'm fine. You know, that looks amazing," she said, pointing at a random object on the blanket. Too late, she noticed it was wrapped in paper.

His eyebrows shot up, and his lips pulled up in a smirk. "Uh-huh." But he let the subject drop and handed the package too her. "Enjoy."

Warily, she pulled back the white paper to find a sandwich. Eyeing it, she grinned in delight. "Joe's?" she asked.

Danny shot her a disappointed glance. "Would I bring you a sandwich from anywhere else?"

Delighted, she quickly bit into a half and moaned. "Dear God that's good," she mumbled when she'd swallowed.

"Looks like it."

Raising her head to look at him, she found him frozen, staring at her. She hurriedly wiped at her mouth with her fingers. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Nah, you're good," he said, dropping his eyes to his own sandwich.

"I can't remember the last time I had Joe's," she told him, gazing at the sandwich in adoration.

"Probably before you were shot."

Glaring at him, she decided to ignore the dry comment. "I think Jen and I went a couple weeks before that."

Sighing, Danny lowered his own sandwich to his lap. "You gonna stare at it all day or eat it?"

"Shut up, Messer," she grumbled, taking a large bite.

He chuckled and handed her a napkin. "I know how you like to be all civilized," he said mockingly.

"Oh, yes. Napkins are so high class." Balling the paper up with one hand, she tossed it at his head.

He gave her a long-suffering look. "That's just gross, Montana."

Rolling her eyes, she busied herself with grabbing another napkin, secretly watching him as he turned his attention to the food. He could be quite single-minded when he wanted. As she watched him neatly decimate the sandwich, she found herself having to stifle a happy sigh.

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"I seriously have to get out of here," Lindsay whispered to the mirror.

Holding onto the edge of the sink, she waited for the nausea to pass. The physical therapist had warned her this would happen if she over-exerted herself. But even as she tried to convince herself it wasn't a big deal, she was overcome with the urge to call her mother.

The idea filled her with disgust. Nearly thirty year old women did not call their mothers when they felt like throwing up. It was a ridiculous idea. All she had to do was get across the room to the bed and she'd be fine. A nap was all she needed.

Her phone was across the room, too. So no matter which course of action she settled on—nap or mother—she needed to get to the bed.

Taking a deep breath, she let go of the sink and immediately felt a wave of dizziness come over her. A knock on the bathroom door had her clutching the sink again.

"Lindsay?" Mrs. C's voice was concerned, but professionally neutral. "Are you all right in there?"

"I'm fine," Lindsay called back, her voice as strong as she could make it.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, no, I'm fine," she repeated. "Just splashing my face with some cold water."

Mentally kicking herself for adding that useless comment, Lindsay closed her eyes and sank to the tiled floor. Freddy needed throw rugs for his bathrooms, his floors were cold as ice all day long.

She knew if she didn't come out soon, Mrs. C would be coming in and there was nothing Lindsay could do to stop her. Frustration made her drop her head back against the pedestal sink. A month of physical therapy and she was no closer to being in her own home.

She had to get out.

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The phone rang just as the movie was getting to the suspenseful climax, and Lindsay nearly fell off the couch. Hurriedly righting herself, she glared at Freddy as he tried—with little success—to hide his laughter.

"Shut up," she said, reaching out a foot to kick him lightly in the side. Curling her legs back underneath her, she flipped open her cell, checking the caller id before pressing it to her ear. "Hey Jen."

"Hey Linds." Jen took a deep breath and held it as if she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

Frowning, Lindsay glanced at Freddy who silently reached over to press pause on the remote. She felt his eyes on the side of her face as she faced forward again. "Jen, is everything okay?"

"Linds…" she started but stopped again.

Lindsay laughed nervously. "Jen, spit it out."

"Danny got hit by a truck. A Mack truck," she clarified nervously, as if she felt Lindsay needed the details.

Lindsay was off the couch before she consciously thought to move. "What?" She felt like she was shrieking, but the word came out in a whisper.

"He's all right," Jen said quickly.

The air itself was squeezing her lungs. "You could've started out with that," she wailed, looking around the room for her shoes.

"He's at Angel of Mercy right now. The truck was going pretty slowly. I think he dislocated a shoulder or something."

"You think?" Suddenly, she remembered that her shoes were in her bedroom. Starting towards the door, she heard Freddy stand from the couch behind her. "These are things you should know before you try and give me a heart attack, Jen."

"You need me to come pick you up?"

"No, I have a ride," Lindsay said. Picking up her shoes, she slipped them on without bothering to change. "You're sure he's at Angel of Mercy?"

"Positive. Call me when you get home, all right?"

"Sure. Jen," she said and heard the other woman made a questioning noise. "Thanks. For calling me."

"No problem. Oh, and don't break any speed limits. He'll be there awhile."

Hanging up, Lindsay tossed the phone behind her on the bed and put her hands on her hips. Freddy was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. "I need your car keys."

"Like hell you do," he said mildly. "What's going on?"

"Danny was hit by a truck. A big one," she expounded, gesturing vaguely in the air.

Straightening off the wall, Freddy dropped his arms and stared at her. "Whoa. Is he okay?"

"He dislocated a shoulder. Or something. Jen wasn't sure." She swallowed the tears in her throat, knowing she'd never get the keys if she lost control. "I need to get to the hospital, Freddy. Please."

Silently, he turned and started down the hall. With a small sob of relief, Lindsay followed him. "Thank you," she said as he picked them up off the hall table.

"I'll drive you," he told her.

"No."

"Lindsay," he began impatiently.

"No, Freddy. There's no way he'd feel comfortable with you there," she argued. Raising her chin, she held out a hand for the keys. "I need to go alone."

His face darkened, turning stubborn, and she smiled humorlessly at him. "Either you give me the keys or I take a cab," she told him quietly. "I'm not a kid anymore, Freddy."

The moment drew out between them then he sighed in defeat. Dropping the keys in her palm, he stepped to the side. "The clutch sticks on second gear," he murmured.

"Thank you." She smiled at him, touching his arm briefly as she passed.

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Tired and aching, Danny moved into the nearly empty hospital hallway behind Mac. Stella was waiting for them with a worried expression and he smiled wanly at her, trying to reassure her he was okay. His shoulder just ached like a son of a bitch.

"How ya feelin'?" Stella asked, reaching over to touch his unbandaged arm.

"Been better," he told her dryly.

The sling did little to keep his arm from hurting and was making his neck itch uncontrollably. Every time he moved his head, the fabric scratched at his skin.

"You on anything?" Stella asked.

"Tylenol." He tried to shrug and immediately winced. Muttering swear words in Italian, he held himself tensely, trying to breathe through the pain.

After it had faded to a dull throb, he lifted his good hand and shoved his glasses up his nose. Raising his eyes, he started to ask Mac for that ride when movement down the hall caught his eye.

Lindsay was coming around the corner from one of the side hallways. She was holding herself stiffly, and Danny wondered if she was aching today like he was. Then her eyes met his and something inside him relaxed a fraction.

At the sight of him, she paused and her face cleared. When she started towards him again, her steps were less tense.

He thought she'd stop when she reached the group. But she didn't seem to notice Stella and Mac as she stepped directly up to him. Only a few inches separated them and she wasn't talking, just staring at him.

"Fancy meetin' you here," he said, trying to sound careless.

Her lips curved upwards, not enough for a smile, just enough for him to notice. "I heard you took on a Mack Truck."

"Yeah. You should see the truck."

The smile still didn't reach her eyes, and Danny let his own fall off his face. She swallowed. "You need a ride? I have Freddy's Mustang."

His face must have lit up because she chuckled a bit. "Thought you might like that."

"You know me too well, Montana."

Fear suffused him as she winced a little. Something was wrong. He'd been out jumping in front of trucks and something was wrong. She covered her reaction quickly, turning to go.

"Lindsay—" he started, his tone gentle and soothing.

He nearly jerked away in surprise as she whirled back around. She raised wide, haunted eyes to his face, tears threatening to spill over. As he stared back at her questioningly, she came across the few inches between them, rising on her toes. He didn't move as her cool hand cupped his cheek. When her lips pressed against the other side of his face, lingering there for a long moment, he was sure he'd stopped breathing.

Pulling away and lowering back to her usual height, Lindsay left her hand against his face for a few extra seconds and gazed at him. As she backed away entirely, Danny was sure he'd never breathe quite the same again without her body invading his personal space.

Even wearing yoga pants and an old U of M sweatshirt, hair flung into a messy ponytail, she was beautiful. And he gaped at her, unable to think or do anything coherent. She must have noticed his awed expression because her lips eased into a sly smile that made him want to kneel in front of her and beg; for what, he wasn't sure. Then she was turning away and he stood stock still trying to process the last minute of his life.

She'd gone a few steps down the hall before she realized he wasn't following. Glancing back, she smiled tremulously at him. "Shake a tail feather, cowboy."

Spurred into action, he took his jacket from Mac, whose expression was a little too neutral and nodded at his bosses. When he caught up, she smiled at him again, still looking rough around the edges.

They wandered from the hospital silently, both of them sadly familiar with the identical hallways stretching in front of and behind them. He grimaced once in the elevator after accidentally shifting his arm in the sling. She shot him a sharp glance, fraught with worry and he tried to smooth the pain from his expression.

"You're an idiot," she muttered, facing the metal doors again.

Instead of being insulted, he just sighed and nodded. "Probably."

When the doors opened to reveal the parking garage, Lindsay led the way to the bright red convertible. Danny felt his mouth drop open. He didn't think he'd ever seen a car this beautiful.

While he was busy drooling, Lindsay, at least, remembered the proper function of such an object and opened the door for him. He slid inside, checking out the interior with admiration. He barely noticed when Lindsay pulled open the driver's side door and slid into her seat.

"This is the most beautiful car in the world," Danny said seriously, his eyes still cataloguing the gadgets on the dash.

Lindsay sighed. "You're an idiot," she repeated, but there was no heat in her voice, only amusement. So, Danny shot her a wicked grin, adoring the blush that stained her cheeks.

"Where am I taking you?" she asked quickly, igniting the engine.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Home."

Turning the engine back off, she swiveled in her seat. "You can't go home," she told him, the scowl on her face brooking no argument.

"Why not?" he asked, honestly confused.

She gestured with increasing violence. "Because you dislocated a shoulder. Your arm's in a sling. You're not exactly in a position to take care of yourself."

Raising an eyebrow, Danny settled himself back against the door so he could watch her. "Tonight, taking care of myself includes opening my door, locking it and falling into bed. How am I incapable of that?"

She floundered for a minute then stilled. Letting her eyes fall shut, she raised a hand to her temple. "I'm sorry," she whispered, turning away from him to rest her forehead against the steering wheel. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Warmth spread through Danny's chest, making him even more uncomfortable as his stomach began to tingle. "You're turning into Freddy, that's what. Is it some sort of Monroe trait I should be aware of?"

She shot him a begrudgingly amused glance. "And at the full moon we turn into wolves."

"That's kinda hot," he teased, a half-grin tugging at his lips.

She laughed as she backed the car out of the space. "You're an odd man, Danny."

"I like to think of myself as unique."

He leaned his head back against the seat, wanting to enjoy both the car ride and the rare moments with her, but too tired to think of anything else to say. It seemed like only a few minutes later when she pulled to a stop outside his building.

"You okay from here?" she asked quietly as he straightened his glasses.

He knew the look on his face was soft, too soft for him, but found he couldn't look away from the concern in her eyes. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the need to pull her to him, to demand she come up with him. But she still had a hole in her side and now he had an arm in a sling.

Fate was cruel.

"I'll be fine," he said simply, opening his door.

He paused before stepping out and did the only thing he could do. Reaching out, he picked a hand up off the wheel and turned it over to press a kiss to her palm. "Thanks for coming," he murmured, his eyes watching her pupils dilate at the contact.

"You're welcome," she whispered back.

His grin was sly and he slipped out of the car without looking back. Once he was in his apartment, he walked to the window and glanced down at the street, but she'd long since pulled away.

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"And Danny hasn't been here at all?" Jen asked, biting into a cookie.

"Nope," Lindsay said, concentrating on spooning batter onto the baking sheet.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. It just seemed weird to invite him over when I couldn't even get out of bed without help."

"But he saw you that way in the hospital," Jen pointed out, moving around to the refrigerator. "Milk?"

"No thanks. I know he did. But it's different to have him come here and do that."

"Why?"

"You don't invite someone over to sit around and watch you lie prone on the bed."

"That's a stupid reason," Jen said candidly. "He would have been perfectly happy to do that."

Lindsay sighed and carried the baking sheet to the oven. "I know. But I wouldn't have been happy with it."

"Well what about now? You're up and about, baking even." Jen grinned as she pulled a glass out of the cabinet.

"Yeah, but now he's down for the count," Lindsay said. "He's still on painkillers for the shoulder and various bruising."

"Aw. Maybe you could kiss it better."

Glaring at her so-called best friend, Lindsay pulled out another baking sheet and lined it with parchment. "No, I could not. I'm not going to kiss his stomach before I kiss him."

Realizing what she'd just said, Lindsay snapped her mouth shut. Jen peered at her as she put the milk away. "Are you blushing?"

Scoffing, Lindsay turned away. "No," she protested.

"Right," Jen drawled, shutting the fridge and moving back to the cookies. "These are really good, by the way."

Lindsay smiled, slightly embarrassed. "Feel free to take some with you. I spent yesterday making muffins and a pie."

Pausing with the cookie halfway to her mouth, Jen stared at her. "Have you been doing anything besides baking?"

"Not really," she said with a sigh. At Jen's expression, she shrugged. "I've exhausted every other option. I've watched every movie Freddy owns and Netflix is only so fast. I'm not all that interested in reading more books about traversing the Sudan or climbing Everest. And Freddy would flip if I left the apartment."

"But you did leave the apartment," Jen argued, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"Yeah," Lindsay hissed back, glancing at the hallway to make sure Freddy wouldn't appear suddenly. Or Mrs. C. She was beginning to get the feeling Mrs. C reported back to Freddy at the end of the day.

Or maybe she was getting paranoid.

"Because I snuck out while he was in a meeting. I barely made it back before he did last time," she said, setting her scoop back in the bowl. "Way too stressful."

Jen made a face. "You really are in prison."

"Tell me about it," Lindsay grumbled, reaching over to snatch up one of the warm cookies. "But I have a plan."

"Do tell." Raising an eyebrow in interest, Jen offered Lindsay her glass of milk and waited patiently as she swallowed a sip.

"My doctor's appointment is next week, right? So, I'm going to ask the doctor if it's okay for me to go home now. I mean, it's not like I'm really suffering anymore." She gestured down at her own body and handed the glass back. "I can feed myself, wash myself, clothe myself. Why can't I go back to my own apartment?"

Nodding, Jen watched her over the rim of the milk glass. Lindsay looked nervously back at the hallway. "If the doctor says it's okay, Freddy has to let me go back, right?"

Jen choked on her milk. Coughing, she held up a hand as Lindsay jerked forward to help her. "How in the world would he stop you?" she asked when she'd caught her breath. "You're a grown woman for Christ's sake."

Lindsay gave her a sad, defeated look. "He'd call my mother."

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Jerking awake, Lindsay clutched at the blankets, panting with fear. The pain in her side was barely noticeable as her mind flashed back through the nightmare. Always the same one.

Panting, she shivered as the sweat trickled on her back, already cooling in the breeze from her open window. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her face as her breaths began to slow. When her heart stopped pounding with fear, she lay back in the bed.

Her phone glowed slightly in the dark room, catching her eye, and she bit her lip, debating. It was late, tomorrow was a work day. Reaching out anyway, she hit her speed dial and listened to it ring in her ear. Once, twice, three time. Then she heard a click and a fumbling sound over the line.

"Yeah?" came the gravelly voice.

"Danny?"

"Lindsay? That you?" Rustling filled the phone and she knew he was sitting up in bed.

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry for calling so late."

"No prob," he said with a yawn. "What's up?"

She was never quite sure what prompted her to say what she did next. It was late and she was tired. Or maybe she was just tired of trying not to ssay things like this to him.

"I just needed to hear your voice."

As soon as the words crossed her lips Lindsay's eyes widened in the darkness. She couldn't take it back, so she lay there, staring at the ceiling, wating for any sort of response.

"Bad dream?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. Kinda." Her breath came out in a shaky burst of air.

"You want me to say anything in particular?"

His voice didn't sound scared or distant from her clinginess, just more gentle. She turned on her side so she wouldn't have to hold the phone against her ear. "Not really. Anything."

"I went out with Flack tonight," he told her. "Sullivan's. Angell was there for about a second and a half."

"Why'd she leave so fast?" Lindsay asked, snuggling down into her pillow.

"Dunno. She didn't come over or nothin'."

"Huh." Her muscles were finally starting to relax after the anxiety and fear of her dream.

"You two still hangin'?"

"Women don't hang, Danny. That's a guy thing."

"Oh really," he said dryly. "And what do you do?"

"We chill," she told him, purposely making her voice sound pedantic. She reveled in the quiet laugh on the other end of the line. "And, yes, Jen came over a few days ago."

"What did you two do?"

Lindsay thought for a minute. "Just sat around talking mostly. I baked cookies."

"Didn't you just make muffins? And a pie or something?" he asked. She heard him shifting on the bed.

"Yeah. I bake a lot when I'm bored. Or upset. Either one."

"You upset?"

"What?" she muttered, distracted by thoughts of him just on the other side of the line. "No. Bored out of my mind."

"Well, we'll have to do something about that." His voice was smooth, and she was sure he had practice sounding so seductive.

She wished she could see him, warm from sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut despite the dark and tried to picture him.

"Lindsay?"

"Yeah?" she asked quickly to cover the fact that she hadn't heard his question.

"I asked what you were doing tomorrow night."

She sighed. "My uncle's having a dinner party. I have to play hostess."

"You sound so excited about that," he informed her, obviously amused by her pain.

"Yeah, well, I've gone to these things before. It's boring. A lot of superficial sycophants who keep calling me Leslie and try to get as close to Freddy as possible."

"Sounds nice."

She snorted. "Yeah. My uncle only throws these things for people who donate to the magazine." She paused, forcing herself not to go into another rant on how he'd changed. "Do you want to come?"

She kept speaking, cutting off any reply he might have made. "I know I've painted a great picture, but the food's usually heavenly."

"You uncle wouldn't mind a sudden addition?"

"Not at all," she assured him, her heart pounding again. Pleasantly.

"What time should I show?"

Her smile was uncontrollable. "Eight sound good?"

"I don't get off til seven," he told her, regret in his tone.

"Oh, that's fine," she protested quickly. "It's a lot of mingling for an hour or so anyway."

"Okay then."

"Okay then," she repeated in a murmur, wishing she could jump up and dance.

Danny was quiet for a moment then cleared his throat. "Hey, I thought you said your uncle didn't throw dinner parties."

Groaning softly, she let her eyes fall shut again. "Don't get me started," she mumbled bitterly.

"Right then," he said brightly. "New subject."

She giggled, trying to ease the phone away from her mouth so it wouldn't be obnoxiously loud in his ear. "You should get some sleep," she said when she'd calmed down.

"So should you. Think you can now?"

She thought for a moment, but any residual fear had dissipated. The only thing left in its place was the usual underlying fretfulness the dreams brought. "Yeah, I think so."

"Call me again if you need to," he murmured, and she smiled. He was already half asleep.

"Okay. Good night, Danny." The silent thank you rang loudly in her ears, but she couldn't force it past her lips. It made the situation feel too formal. She refused to degrade what he'd done for her that way. They were past all that.

"Night, Montana."

She giggled again at the grogginess in his voice. "Night."

After a few seconds, he chuckled sleepily over the line. "Hang up."

"Right. Sorry."

Dropping the closed phone, she covered her face with her hands and groaned. She really was on idiot sometimes.

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chili-peppers: I hope you liked the face to face bits here. They're so cute together. Even more cuteness next chapter!

alicia5: Freddy's not as bad as he's been coming across, I swear. I think the fact that it's all from Lindsay's perspective is the reason he seems so awful most of the time. I really never meant to write him as a bad guy; they just bicker a lot. (And I think if Lindsay could lift her own luggage she totally would have moved out by now; she is definitely not happy with him. : p)

qt4good: You're right. Lindsay is not one to sit back and relax, hence her escape from prison. Lots of cute little moments in this chapter and definitely more in the next!

Tenley: The Great Escape went off without a hitch! Freddy isn't the wiser. I hope Danny's explanation made the time they didn't talk seem less drastic. He's a sweet man, really. Freddy is weirdly cryptic, isn't he? I blame the fact that he generally spends 8 or 9 months of the year away from civilization. He forgets how to communicate. : p

serenity2blliss: I think Freddy letting Lindsay take the car in this chapter was a sign that he's loosening the tethers a bit. He really has had her locked up in that apartment. I don't think Lindsay's going to stand for it much longer.

berta101: I hope you got to say "aw" in this chapter! I know I did when I was writing it. I'm a total fluff bunny sometimes. Hehe.

Lauren: Jen and Lindsay are such an interesting pair. Lindsay's soft with a core of steel, whereas Jen acts tough as nails but really is a bit of a teddy bear. They definitely balance each other out. And I think once Lindsay starts getting out more (and seeing Danny again) she'll start acting like her old self again.

Devilla: Kissing is in the near future. This story is almost finished, just a few more chapters left. Freddy's situation is pretty complicated and about to get more so. (Sorry, Freddy.) But I think, for room's sake, I'll push that sub-plot into the last story of this trilogy.

The Little Corinthian: If they don't work together tonight, I'll join you in that TPing. I've got some nice Quilted Northern that really sticks to wood when wet. Luckily, Danny and Lindsay are no longer fighting. Though it still surprises me that it took Lindsay a week to think "Hey, maybe he's mad at me" even though he wasn't. Okay, maybe she's smarter than I thought.

Leena7: How was the Danny action in this chapter? There hasn't really been a perspective shift since Lindsay woke up, you're right. I'm not sure if I'll include any more in the next few chapters, but I'll try and throw a few more in.

ReJo: Danny was letting her have space, thinking he'd mistreated her somehow, so having her call finally must have been a major relief. I don't think he even thought to be mad about the silence. Besides…she didn't really give him a chance to participate in the phone conversation. : p

messermonroe: This chapter was super long, but lots of Danny and Lindsay face time, eh? Nice, right? Better, there's more in the next chapter!

karakamas: I actually meant to address that Danny and Lindsay hadn't seen each other earlier than this chapter, but somehow it never fit into the chapters. Mostly, it's the fact that Lindsay felt awkward being so helpless. It was one thing in the hospital where everyone was coming and going and he always stopped by on lunch or dinner breaks. But having him sit there bored in Freddy's apartment was another thing to her. Like she told Jen, it was stupid, but sometimes Lindsay's a little insecure. It helped that Danny didn't know where her uncle lived, I guess. Otherwise he would have shown up on her doorstep.

Nikkilou: Hehe. I'm glad you're hooked. I hope you liked this chapter. I kinda went a little crazy after having DL apart for so long.

Marue61: Oh, I'm pretty sure she resorted to those romance novels a few weeks ago, but Jen might be her supplier now. Who knows?

Murgy31: Aw thanks! I hope you liked this chapter as much as the others.

Od: I hope the conversation between Danny and Lindsay explained his behavior a bit. He just felt like he'd treated her badly and didn't know how to fix it, especially if she was mad at him. He's so adorable.

seren23: Jen has some of the best quips. I don't know why, but I can come up with much funnier lines for her and Flack than the rest of the other characters.

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A.N. I'm so looking forward to the new episode tonight. I can't wait! Is it time yet?...How bout now?


	15. Chapter 15

A.N. I swear to the heavens, this is not my month of technology. First my computer, then my iPod, then my printer, now hates me and wouldn't let me upload files for a week. Chapter 14 was done last Wednesday afternoon, so I'm posting Chapter 15, too.

For future ref, I'll be posting all new chapters of my fics on my livejournal (link on my profile).

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When Danny saw Lindsay step out of the crowd towards him, he nearly swallowed his tongue. The little red dress was simple, but clung to her curves as she moved.

"Hi," she said when she was finally in front of him. Delicately, she rose up on her toes to hug him. "Thanks for coming," she added, pulling away.

"Anytime," he said, slipping his jacket from his shoulders. "Thanks for asking me."

A faint blush tinged her cheeks, and she nodded. "Here, let me get your coat."

"Lindsay," a shrill voice shrieked from Danny's left, somewhere in the crowd. Glancing over, he saw a woman slinking towards them on man-eater stilettos.

"Oh crap," Lindsay whispered, barely audible.

The woman came to a stop just inches from his arm and looked him over with a sly smile. "Who's your friend?"

Lindsay smiled calmly and gestured between the two. "Danny Messer meet Millicent Dowd," Lindsay said politely.

"How ya doin'," Danny nodded at the woman, feeling a bit nervous as she eyed him hungrily.

"Pleasure," Millicent practically purred. "Why don't I introduce him around for you, Lindsay?"

Catching his eye apologetically, she smiled again at the other woman. "Actually, I was just about to get him a drink."

Not wanting to put Lindsay in an awkward position with the vip, Danny smiled charmingly to ease the sting. "Thanks, though."

Millicent took it in stride and moved away, hips swinging, though Danny could see she wasn't one to be thwarted easily. She was one of those high power types who used their sexuality to climb the ladder. Gorgeous, sophisticated, boring. At least, compared to the woman currently drawing him across the room towards the wet bar.

He leaned against the teak counter as she went around behind. "Nice dress," he commented as she reached for a bottle.

Straightening, she glanced down at herself as though she'd forgotten what she was wearing, then smiled up at him. "Thanks. Freddy got it for me. Everything I had clung too much."

Danny automatically eyed her midsection, trying to discern whether or not she still wore bandages over the wound. He couldn't tell. "Well, you do clean up nice."

"So do you," she teased, pouring scotch into a glass.

He smiled. He's always known women found him attractive, had known since he had that growth spurt at fourteen. Somehow though, hearing Lindsay say it sent his heart skittering, and he was suddenly very grateful he'd been blessed by genetics. Maybe because he had a vague idea that Lindsay didn't care what he looked like; would, in fact, have said the same thing if he were bald and pudgy.

Knowing this, he let his smile widen as she handed him the glass. "Thanks." His face settled into a smirk as her cheeks grew pink again when their fingers brushed.

She quickly turned away to replace the bottle and hide her face. "You're welcome," she murmured quietly.

Danny waited to speak until she'd come all the way around the bar and stepped up next to him. "Nothing for you?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Painkillers and alcohol don't mix." Her eyes flicked to him from under her lashes. "How's your shoulder?"

"Good as new," he quipped, taking a sip of the scotch. "So who are all these people?"

Shrugging, Lindsay shifted to put her elbows up against the counter. "Donators, mostly. I don't think there are any board members here tonight. They like to keep these things casual," she said mockingly, gesturing at the cocktail attire and fancy drinks.

"Yeah, real casual." He felt himself stiffen as Freddy came out of the crowd, talking with a shorter, heavyset man. Lindsay must have felt him tense because she shot Danny a confused look that he promptly ignored.

"Hey Danny," Freddy called when he noticed him next to Lindsay. "How's the arm?"

"Good as new," Danny repeated tensely, trying to smile.

"Glad you could make it. Oh, sorry, Harold. Harold Slater, this is my niece Lindsay."

"Good to meet you," she said, smiling widely. Harold nodded and swallowed nervously.

"And her date, Danny Messer."

Danny nearly choked at the introduction and barely resisted the urge to check Lindsay's face. He had a feeling she wasn't very happy with her uncle at that moment. Offering his hand to the other man, he smiled crookedly. "How ya doin'?"

"Bronx?" Harold asked.

"Excuse me?" Danny leaned forward to hear the other man's soft voice better.

"Harold's a linguist," Freddy explained, moving behind the wet bar. Pulling out the same bottle of scotch Lindsay had, he poured a few fingers into a glass. "Kinda like Pygmalion."

"Pig who?" Danny muttered to Lindsay who stifled a laugh. He found himself eyeing the amount of scotch in Freddy's glass critically and wondered if Lindsay's uncle felt the need to get drunk tonight.

"My Fair Lady," she explained in a whisper.

Turning back to Harold, he found the other man watching them closely which was oddly unnerving. "Yeah, I grew up in the Bronx," he finally answered.

Harold nodded politely and looked to Freddy as he came back around the bar. "I think it would be an excellent venture for you, Fred."

"I don't know, Harold," Freddy said as they began to disappear back into the crowd. Freddy sent them both a smile and wave over his shoulder.

"Interesting man."

Lindsay didn't bother to stifle her chuckle this time, and Danny grinned at her. He was just about to comment on Freddy's friendliness when Millicent Dowd reappeared at his elbow. He barely controlled a start of surprise. How did a woman in stilettos sneak up on someone?

"Now that you have your drink, I thought I'd show you around a bit. Everyone's dying to know the young stud at the bar."

Danny raised an eyebrow, mildly offended at the term, but offered no argument. Lindsay winced over Millicent's shoulder, and he smiled calmly at her. He was fairly certain she couldn't stave the woman off again without seeming rude, and she couldn't seem rude at her uncle's dinner. So, he just shrugged casually.

"Let's not keep them waiting then."

Lindsay couldn't control her face as her eyebrows jerked upwards in surprise but Danny just tossed her a wink as Millicent towed him away. Was it the scotch? Her eyes followed them as they crossed the large living room, bypassing everyone else in between, to reach Millicent's ex husband and his new fiancée.

Sighing, Lindsay turned and went to check on the hors d'oeuvres now that her date had been hijacked. Logically, she knew that Danny had been doing her a favor by not making a fuss about it, but she still found herself wishing he hadn't gone so willingly.

After a long discussion with the head of the serving staff about the rudeness of the guests in which she found herself nodding more than speaking, Lindsay sighed and turned to the trays waiting to be taken around the room. It was a somewhat unwieldy setup considering the kitchen was part of the great room itself and in full sight of the guests. Lindsay had spent an hour consoling the hysterical caterer after he'd seen the kitchen.

Restlessly, Lindsay fiddled with the decorative napkin on one of the trays, feeling useless and out of place. One of the servers looked at her curiously as he passed, and she tried vainly to look busy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Danny attempting to detach himself from Millicent the Cougar. Familiar with Millicent's tenacity, Lindsay was shocked when he appeared at her side a few moments later.

"What're you doing?" he asked, watching her rearrange a plate of crab puffs.

"Hiding," she answered nonchalantly. "If I look busy, they leave me alone."

He chuckled and leaned a hip against the counter. "Can I join you? Those people are…"

"Intense?" she offered with a grin when he trailed off.

"Try competitive. I felt like meat dropped into a den of lions."

"You were." At his confused expression, she smiled wryly. "That was Millicent's ex-husband. He left her for the woman he has with him."

"Ah. I take it they didn't separate amicably."

Giving up on her ruse of rearranging, Lindsay folded her arms and faced him. "Millicent didn't love him, but I think it rankled that he left her for a younger woman."

"I can see that," Danny said, swirling the ice in his glass absently. "Woman like that."

"You want another?"

He looked down as if surprised to find the glass empty. "Sure."

"What do you mean, a woman like that?" she asked, stepping back behind the bar.

He laid his forearms on the teak and rested his weight on them. "She uses sex as a weapon."

Lindsay flicked her eyes up at him as she poured two fingers into his glass. "Okay."

"So," he explained. "It would really bruise her ego if she was tossed aside for a younger, more attractive model of basically the same vehicle. That man has no taste. The second's as bad as the first."

Sliding the glass to him, Lindsay glanced past his shoulder to where Millicent was chatting up Freddy. Despite her dislike of the woman and her need to seduce anything male that moved, Lindsay felt a little sorry for her. It couldn't be easy having a husband cheat on you, whether you loved him or not.

Then Millicent's gaze rested on Danny's back for a long moment, her tongue coming out to wet her lips, and Lindsay's eyes narrowed. Hot jealousy swept through her, and she looked up to find Danny watching her with a confused expression. "You okay?" he asked.

Forcing herself to relax, she smiled directly up into his eyes. Lindsay wasn't a fool. She knew she couldn't outright compete with the woman for Danny—it might cost Freddy his funding—but if she played her cards right, she wouldn't have to.

"What just happened?" Danny asked, a half-smile forming on his lips.

Lindsay tried to look innocent as she shifted her weight forward. He mirrored the move so they leaned towards each other over the bar, eyes locked, faces barely a foot apart. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he murmured and she laughed at his suspiciously amused expression. "But whatever it was, I like it."

She felt the flush creep up her neck, and her smile turned shy. Just as she was about to speak, though, Freddy appeared next to her. "Dinner is served," he called out, toasting the crowd with his glass.

As the guests began to file towards the tables set up on the balcony, Freddy turned to Lindsay with an exhausted expression. "I think I need more alcohol."

"That bad, huh?" Though her voice and tone were sympathetic, she slid the bottle out of his reach. "I think you need to be coherent out there," she told him when he sighed.

"He got more," Freddy muttered, gesturing at Danny who raised his eyebrows.

"Danny doesn't need to convince the room he's worth funding. Run along," she said, pushing Freddy towards the door to the balcony.

"How old is he?" Danny murmured as came around the bar to his side.

She shook her head. "He hates these things."

"Then why do them?"

"The magazine can't fund the trips their writers take on subscription profits. That barely covers the cost of production," Lindsay explained, though she was pretty sure Danny had figured this out already.

He shrugged and let the subject drop as they reached the double doors to the balcony. "Please tell me we're not sitting with Millie," Danny murmured as she led him outside.

"Millie?" Lindsay repeated, sending him a wry smile. He shrugged unrepentantly. "Don't worry, I never seat her anywhere near me. She's on the opposite side of the balcony."

"Have I told you lately that you're a genius?" he asked, leaning down to speak into her ear as he pulled out her chair.

"Thanks," she said, surprised by the gesture. As he seated himself to her right, she leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm not a genius, though. I just have a healthy sense of self-preservation."

He smirked at her. "The hole in your side would beg to differ."

Making a face at him, she turned away to watch Freddy as he stood. "Let me again say welcome to everyone here tonight. I think I had the chance to speak with you all, but, if not, I do apologize."

The guests all nodded regally and Danny let out a disbelieving breath. "Seriously?" he whispered in her ear.

Lindsay elbowed him lightly, trying to control her chuckle by coughing quietly. Freddy's eyes flitted to them briefly then away. She was sure no one else could see the amused glint in his eye.

The candles sputtered in the light breeze, but, thankfully, didn't die. They threw mysterious shadows over Freddy's face as he continued his speech. Vaguely, Lindsay wondered if he knew he looked like he'd stepped out of the pages of a Harry Potter novel. Then she sighed. What was she thinking? It was probably the effect he was going for.

He waxed poetic about the generosity of the guests for several minutes before moving into a prepared segment on the Galapagos expedition. Lindsay stiffened in her chair, knowing what was coming.

"As you might have heard, my niece was recently shot in the line of duty," Freddy said bleakly.

"Oh my God," Lindsay groaned softly, mortified as every pair of eyes turned to look at her.

"Smile, Monroe," Danny said behind her. "I'll kill him for you later."

She wanted to turn and glare at him, but instead smiled as Freddy's speech continued. "However, I assure you that, come the new year, the trip will be back into the planning stages."

Lindsay nearly collapsed with relief when everyone's gaze turned back to Freddy. He went on to describe what still needed to be done—or redone after the aborted first try—and everyone nodded appreciatively. The evening would obviously shape up to be another of Freddy's successes.

"I cannot believe he just did that," Lindsay hissed through a smile at the couple across from she and Danny.

"Neither can I."

The grim quality of Danny's tone made her worry for Freddy's safety for half a second before she dismissed the concern. After that speech, he was on his own.

Mentally forcing herself to move on as the food was being served, Lindsay politely tried to entice the other couple into conversation. She'd made sure she and Danny were seated in the corner of the balcony with the Ashtons, a couple who were exceedingly quiet. Lindsay could never discern whether it was from snobbery or shyness, though she suspected the latter.

To her surprise, she spent the course of dinner watching Danny charm Patricia Ashton into a conversation while managing not to exclude her husband. With chagrin, she came to the conclusion he really was good at everything. But the thought only intrigued her.

Danny had such a volatile personality that his people skills astounded her. She'd never thought about it before, but when he put his mind to it he could make anyone do anything.

While Danny made the Ashtons laugh with a story he'd picked up on the news—carefully chosen because of its reference to South America, she was sure—Lindsay surreptitiously watched him. She wondered where he'd learned how to do this. To rub along with anyone. It was another bit of his life story she was missing.

Lately, it had been starting to bother her that she knew almost nothing about his past. He knew everything there was to know about her, but he was always so careful not to mention so much as his family to her.

She knew he'd been more candid in the hospital. She was still remembering odds and ends of things she'd heard him say, though it was difficult to sort them out from the drugged fuzziness of her dreams. But she hardly thought that counted considering she'd been in a coma when he was so forthcoming.

Biting her lip and watching him grin in the candlelight, she wondered if he'd tell her if she asked. From the few times his family had accidentally come up in conversation, she knew it was a sore subject. So, she had a sinking feeling he'd sidestep the question.

He glanced at her abruptly, his eyes glinting with mischief that he'd caught her staring. Even in the flickering candlelight his face retained his masculinity. Unlike Freddy's magical appearance, Danny looked more like a fallen angel, and Lindsay felt her heart break a little just looking at him.

She wasn't sure how much of what she was feeling showed on her face until his own fell into concern. Hurriedly, she plastered a smile on her face, turning back to the Ashtons. "I heard you vacationed in Greece this summer," Lindsay said brightly.

Still riding on the comfort Danny had built for them, the Ashtons answered enthusiastically throughout dessert. Every time they paused, Danny would ask a question or make a comment, and Lindsay watched in resigned wonder as the couple blossomed under his attention.

She was certain she'd never heard them speak more than pleasantries to any of the regular donators. She'd chalked it up to timidity, but maybe they simply had as little affection for the others as Lindsay herself did.

The only downside to the Ashtons' sudden frivolity was that she never really got to speak to Danny. Finally, as the guests were leaving, Lindsay tugged on his arm so that he stayed behind as the others filed off the balcony. Though he glanced askance at her, he settled against the railing of the balcony and waited.

"You work tomorrow?" she asked as they watched the guests fawning over Freddy one last time on their way out the door.

"Yeah, early shift."

The last guest disappeared through the door to the elevator, and Freddy looked through the windows at them. Seeing Lindsay lift her hand in a wave, he jerked his chin up in response and strode across the great room towards the bedrooms.

"You should get going then," she murmured.

Danny's eyes had followed Freddy's trek across the room and he nodded absently. "Probably."

A strained silence settled over them as Lindsay straightened and began making her way through the servers who were clearing the remnants of the party. Conscious of Danny's presence at her back, Lindsay stifled a sigh as her gait stiff for the first time all day. Of course he would see her limp. Murphy's Law and all.

"I have Thursday off."

He said it casually, as if he were tossing off a comment on the weather, but Lindsay heard the offer behind it. Swallowing as her stomach twisted around the once delicious portabella ravioli and tiramisu, she paused and waited for him to come around to face her.

"Shockingly, so do I," she said, trying to sound unconcerned and collected.

"Maybe we should do something then," Danny said in the same tone, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement.

Sometimes she hated that he could see right through her. Dropping the act, she cleared her throat and glanced away before turning back to him. "I think Freddy has a meeting on Thursday."

When something flickered over his face before it completely shut down, she hurried to add, "Which means we'd have complete control of the remote."

He grinned down at her, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other dangling casually next to him. "Thursday it is, then."

She smiled shyly back then noticed a shadow in the hallway to the bedrooms. Foreboding filled her and quickly she began leading Danny to the door, picking up the pace as Freddy appeared.

"Okay then I'll see you Thursday, right?" she babbled, yanking his jacket out of the closet and wishing for the first time that Danny was more biddable as he dragged his feet.

The rebellious man in question sauntered up to where she was waiting and raised his eyebrows as she practically shoved his jacket at him. "You in a hurry, Montana?"

She forced a laugh, unable to resist glancing over her shoulder at Freddy. He was heading towards them now, and a deep panic clutched at her throat. "Not at all, Messer. Get out."

Shaking with suppressed laughter, he slid his arms into his jacket and leaned down to brush a kiss against her cheek. At the contact, they both froze against a sudden rush of heat. Her heart pounded as she turned her head slightly to meet his gaze, just inches from hers. Their eyes locked for several heartbeats, neither able to look or move away.

"Hey," he murmured finally, his face very serious.

"Hi," she whispered back.

"Hello yourselves."

Instantly the spell was broken and they jerked apart guiltily. Danny, at least, looked calm, but Lindsay faced Freddy with dread.

"Freddy," Danny said, holding out his hand which Freddy grasped firmly in his own. "Thanks for having me."

"Sorry Lindsay dragged you," Freddy answered with an easy smile. "Only redeeming qualities of these damn things are her and the food."

"In that order, I hope," she muttered, slightly offended.

Freddy sent a lazy half-smile in her general direction but didn't answer. "So what's Thursday?" he asked instead.

Vehemently wishing she'd never had an uncle, Lindsay forced a bright smile. "Danny and I are planning a coup on the remote."

The tension in Freddy seemed to coil even tighter. "How nice."

"Isn't it?" Danny responded, obviously picking up on Freddy's minor hostility.

"You do realize she has a hole in her, right?"

Lindsay frowned. "Freddy, what are you talking about?"

But she stopped dead when she saw that Danny had gotten it. The flush creeping up into his cheeks as his eyes narrowed surprised her. Then she felt the heat of anger rolling off him and she bit her lip, abruptly understanding.

Before she could think of a way to diffuse the situation, Danny spoke in a low, controlled voice. "I would never—"

"Good," Freddy stated evenly. "Then we'll get along just fine. Good night, Lindsay. Messer."

And he was walking away, leaving Lindsay sputtering with shocked anger behind him. Danny was so rigid he looked like he'd break if she touched him, so she kept her hands to herself.

"I am so sorry, Danny. I don't know where he gets off sometimes," she told him, her voice oozing horrified anger.

"Don't worry about it," he said, still staring after Freddy's back.

"Danny, really—"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted, but his eyes came back to her face, and he forced a smile for her benefit. "I'll see you on Thursday."

"Yeah. Thursday," she repeated as he stepped through the door.

When it clicked shut behind him, she whirled on her heel and stalked down the hallway. "Freddy!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs.

The door to his bedroom swung open to reveal him in the entrance. "You bellowed?" he murmured, unbuttoning his linen shirt.

Reaching out, she shoved his shoulder. He lost his balance, falling a step back, but didn't look as though it had been an unexpected move. "What's wrong with you?" she yelled.

"Please, Lindsay. The neighbors might hear."

"What neighbors?" she yelled some more and he stepped to let her into the room.

"Lindsay—" he said, stripping off his shirt.

She glared at him. "Don't Lindsay me, and I don't need to see that," she added angrily, pointing at his bare chest.

Rolling his eyes, he snatched up his shirt and slipped his arms through the sleeves, muttering something about Americans, which only made her angrier. "Lindsay—" he tried again, but she barely let him start.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded, gesturing wildly.

He sighed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Lindsay, he looked like he was going to jump you in the foyer."

She couldn't argue with that. "Maybe I wanted him to," she growled back instead, slamming her hands onto her hips. Immediately, a tearing pain made her wince and slide her hand over her side.

Freddy quickly stepped to his night table and pulled open the drawer. "Believe me, I could see that, but you're in no shape for any of that," he said, opening a prescription bottle and shaking out a pill.

"Shouldn't that be my decision?" She wanted to sound as tough as she had a few moments ago, but the pain had stolen her breath and her words sounded like a whisper.

"What did your doctor say?" Freddy asked, thankfully not jumping on her weakness. She really loved him for that.

When he tried to hand her the pill, she shook her head, still holding onto her side. "I shouldn't mix. Mine are in my room."

"It's the same thing." Taking her hand, he pressed the pill into it. "I'll get you some water," he told her, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Why are you taking percocet?" she asked weakly, eyeing the familiarly shaped pill.

He ignored that as he came out with a glass. "What did your doctor say?" he insisted.

"No sexual activity," she told him in a mutter, not particularly enjoying the conversation. Now that her anger had been dissipated by pain, the embarrassment swooped in to fill the empty space.

"For how long?"

"Until he gives me the okay," Lindsay admitted, taking the water he offered.

Sighing, she sat on the edge of his neatly made bed to swallow the pill. Freddy waited until she was done then held out a hand for the glass. Silently, he disappeared back into the bathroom and returned a moment later empty handed.

"Freddy," she said, wincing at the breath it took. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"I know," he said gently, cupping a hand under her elbow and helping her stand. Once she was on her feet, he led her slowly to the door. "And I know you feel excessively sheltered here. But you need someone to take care of you for now. Could you stop fighting me on it?"

"Do you have to try and embarrass me into submission?" she asked weakly as they moved down the hall to her bedroom.

"I was trying to embarrass Messer," he grumbled.

"Danny doesn't get embarrassed easily," she informed him matter-of-factly. "Not about sex anyway."

That made him tense again, but then she felt him force his muscles to relax. In the doorway, she stopped to face him. "I know you mean well, Freddy, but could you try and be polite to my friends? Even when you're worried?"

Looking dark, he turned his face away and she reached up to grasp his shoulder. "Danny would never put me in danger or intentionally hurt me in any way."

A resigned expression settled over Freddy's face. "You trust him, huh?"

"Yeah. Completely."

He sighed. "Why couldn't you have loved Connor? He was so much easier to handle."

"You were the one who told me not to marry him," she pointed out calmly.

"Yeah, cuz you didn't love him."

"And the circular argument rears its ugly head," she muttered, mincing her way across the room.

"The truth is never an argument. Just a fact," he told her with a smile, having followed her to the bed. Crouching as she sat on the edge, he gently slipped off the flats she wore and set them aside.

"Freddy," she protested, pulling her feet away from him.

"Sorry," he said, rising to his full height. "It maybe have been twenty five years ago, but I used to do that for you almost every day, you know."

"I was three, Freddy."

He shrugged that off and dropped a kiss on top of her curly head. "Get some sleep."

"At least we don't have to clean up," she said absently as he retreated to the door.

"Good night, Linny."

She smiled at the nickname that only he used and struggled not to collapse on top of the comforter. "Night, Uncle Freddy."

Suddenly all she wanted to do was sleep for several days. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself that Freddy was right. If just a dinner took this much out of her, one where Danny did all the talking, no less, she still needed to lay low, despite her cabin fever and restless need to move on.

She didn't have the energy to do more than strip the dress off and fall backwards onto the bed. Blindly tossing the dress over the easy chair in the corner, she crawled under the covers and immediately passed out.


	16. Chapter 16

A.N. I'm so excited about being able to post again, I've gone a little crazy with the writing. Three chapters in twenty-four hours. Eesh.

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"You can eat pizza now, right?" Danny asked. She could hear people yelling, cars honking and knew he was on the sidewalk.

"Yes. What'd you bring?" she asked eagerly.

"I guess you'll have to wait and see," he teased.

"Oh, all right. Just give the doorman your name, he'll let you up."

"Great. See you in a minute."

"Bye."

Just as she hung up the phone, Freddy came down the hall wearing nice black pants and a casual button up shirt. It was still strange for her to see him so comfortable in the trappings of civilization even after living with him for months. She even now expected to see him in his ripped jeans and tees, scribbling furiously on a random scrap of paper.

"You look nice," she called across the cavernous room.

He was searching through his pockets with a deep frown, but at the sound of her voice, he glanced up, clearly surprised. Spotting her, his face relaxed into a lazy smile. "So do you," he said, stopping in the hallway to pull on his jacket.

Lindsay gave him a disbelieving look and let her gaze fall to her black capris and loose tank top. Her refusal to let Danny see her in yoga pants again had limited her fashion choices. The capris were the only pants she owned that sank low enough on her hips not to bind or pull at her wound.

"Thanks," she said, mocking him slightly.

He just grinned in response and pushed up the sleeve on his jacket to check the time. "Shouldn't Messer be here by now?"

As she started to answer, a knock sounded at the door. Freddy raised his eyebrows and pointed at the door. "Surely not."

Rolling her eyes at his antics, Lindsay started towards the foyer, watching Freddy pull open the door. On the other side, Danny held a large pizza box in front of him like an offering.

"I do feed her, you know," Freddy said mildly, stepping aside to let Danny by.

"Sure you do," Danny answered calmly. Nodding his thanks at Freddy, Danny crossed the threshold and smiled at Lindsay. "Hey."

She smiled back. "Hey."

"Hey," Freddy added absently, as if unaware he was saying it at all.

Lindsay frowned as she watched him search his pockets again. "What are you looking for?"

"The tickets," he muttered.

"Tickets?" She glanced at Danny as he headed towards the kitchen.

"For the show."

Suddenly, the clothing made sense. "You have a date?"

The shrillness of her voice made Freddy look up. "Yeah. I have a date."

She thought this had ended with the discontinuation of the mystery lunches. Apparently, she'd been wrong. "You have a date," she parroted, confused.

Freddy nodded, still searching for the elusive tickets as Danny came back up beside her now empty-handed. "I'll be home late."

"You," Lindsay stressed. "You have a date?"

"Yeah," Freddy said, stopping his search to look at her. "I have a date."

"With whom?"

Danny's hand shot out to grasp her elbow, and he began towing her backwards away from the foyer. "Have fun, Monroe."

Lindsay felt a bit lost as Freddy nodded at them, giving her a bizarre look she couldn't read, and disappeared through the door. "But he never dates," she argued with thin air as they heard the elevator doors glide shut.

"Uh-huh." Danny spun her around and pushed her towards the pizza box. "What're we watching?"

"I don't care, you pick," she told him, distractedly gesturing at the den as Danny tore paper towels off the roll on the counter. Without thinking about it, Lindsay picked up the large pizza box and carried it in to the coffee table.

"Uh, okay," she barely heard Danny mutter behind her.

"Not since Marilee," she continued, sitting down on the couch and shoving the pile of Netflix envelopes towards him. "I mean, there were those lunches awhile back. But then they stopped."

Preoccupied, she accepted the paper towel he handed her with a vague smile in his general direction. He sighed and began taking the movies out of their wrappers. "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?" he read incredulously.

"I don't get it," she stated finally, her voice hard.

"Lindsay? Why'd you get Happy Feet?"

"You want some lemonade?" she asked, suddenly turning to look at him.

His eyes widened behind his glasses and he nodded jerkily. "Sure."

She frowned as she stood. "We have beer, too."

"Lemonade's fine," he assured her, following as she moved back the way they'd come.

"Mrs. C makes it," she told him inanely, yanking the door open. As she bent over to pull out the glass pitcher, Danny settled a hip against the counter next to her, watching.

"Nice rack." Jerking her head up, she gaped at Danny. He innocently pointed at the wall. "For your towels."

Idiotically following his gesture, she found herself facing the decorative towel rack next to Freddy's double oven. She rolled her eyes back to him and shook her head, though a smile was tugging at her lips. "Thanks," she said wryly.

He seemed pleased with himself, and she gestured at the cabinets behind him. "You wanna grab a couple glasses?"

"Sure."

Surreptitiously, she watched his shirt stretch across his back as he opened the cabinet and selected two glasses. When he started to turn back, she lowered her gaze to the lemonade and swirled it gently, watching the slices of lime on top rock with the waves. He set the glasses on the counter in front of her and she bit her lip.

Raising her eyes to his, she let out the breath she held at the wariness in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I won't worry about Freddy anymore."

He shrugged without expression. "It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"Yeah, it is," he insisted, still neutral. "He's family. It's what you do for family."

Her breath caught at the implied meaning, but refrained from asking the questions that immediately crowded her mind. "Yeah, but I think I've crossed the line into obsessive," she countered with a self-deprecating smile.

Suddenly he grinned and the tension was gone. "It's not like you have anything else to do."

"Okay, that's it. No lemonade for you," she said, moving to put the lemonade back in the fridge.

Laughing, he grabbed her hips to stop her and his touch made her gasp. At the sound, he dropped his hands and back up. "I'm sorry, Lindsay, did I hurt you?"

She hurriedly shook her head. "No, no. I'm fine. Really," she said when he didn't look convinced.

Mutely, he took the pitcher out of her hand and finished pouring the glasses before moving to put it in the fridge himself. Catching a glimpse of his contrite expression, Lindsay chewed the inside of her lip. When he turned back, she was holding both glasses and smiling, head tilted to the side invitingly.

"Movie?" he asked, after studying her for several seconds.

"Did you decide on one?"

Leading the way back to the den, he snorted and stepped aside so she could pass through the doorway before him. "Between Happy Feet and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

"Oh God," she said, freezing in the middle of setting the glasses on the table. "I meant to weed those out."

Sighing, she collapsed back into the middle cushions and reached for the stack. Danny settled himself next to her and flipped the top back on the pizza while she sorted through the movies, leaving her slice sitting on the napkin in front of her.

"Here we go," she murmured, handing him a few envelopes. "All perfectly good grown up movies."

Chuckling, Danny put his pizza down to sift through them quickly. After a few minutes, he pulled one out and held it up questioningly. "Sure," Lindsay said, not really in the mood for a suspense flick, but wanting to come across as her usual agreeable self. She'd been too prickly already tonight.

As he stood to put the dvd in the player, Lindsay picked up the remote and turned on the tv and player. "Thanks," he said over his shoulder.

"Uh-huh," she responded distractedly, her eyes glued to his body as he bent and crouched, trying to make everything work right.

"Is there some sort of magic to this?" he asked, not turning. When she didn't answer, he glanced at her, raising an eyebrow when he saw her glazed expression. "Uh, Linds?"

"What? Oh, sorry," she said, changing the tv from cable to video. The previews popped up immediately and Danny stood to come back to the couch, giving her an odd look as he sat.

She pretended to ignore it, and him, supremely thankful he hadn't caught her eyes where they'd been moments before. They were silent through the first half of the movie, though Lindsay was acutely aware of Danny next to her every time he moved.

Then the hero ripped the shirt off the heroine. "Whoa," Lindsay said involuntarily.

"You all right there, Monroe?"

He sounded amused, but she refused to look at him to find out. Instead, she reached over and picked up the sleeve. "I'm fine. I just…didn't realize this was a love story."

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Finally, she turned to glare balefully at him. "You're hilarious."

He chuckled as she turned back to the screen, determined to get through the scene without embarrassing herself further. And the next one. And the next one. Resignedly, she realized that the mystery took a back seat to the soft-core porn scenes in this particular film. At one point, she glanced at Danny out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed unbothered by the steamy scenes between the characters.

Halfway through the film, Danny's phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket. Lindsay glanced away from the arguing couple on screen to watch him. "Mac?" she asked, eyeing him as he flipped the phone open.

"No," he said absently. "Flack."

With a nod he didn't notice, she turned back to the screen. She felt herself blush as she watched the couple on screen give in to their passion. On the subway.

To her chagrin, a very vivid picture of Danny replaced the man on screen and, in her mind, he was pushing her against the wall of the car. He really was a lot like the male lead, except for the part where Danny wasn't a criminal. It didn't change the thread of danger that wound itself through everything he did. She sometimes got the impression that he could explode at any given moment; he was that volatile.

Watching the Danny-clone on screen, a question flitted through her mind and she opened her mouth to voice it before slamming her lips shut again. She wavered, tilting her head to the side as she watched the couple execute a rather difficult maneuver.

Then she decided to throw caution to the wind. "Have you ever done that?"

"Done what?" Danny murmured, not looking up from his phone, his thumb flying over the keypad.

"That," she clarified, pointing at the screen.

Danny glanced at her, following her finger to the couple panting in unison. His thumb hovered over the keys. "Had sex?" he asked confusedly.

"No. Well, yeah. I mean, on the subway or something."

Wrinkling his brow, Danny turned fully to her, flipping his phone closed without looking at it again. "That on your list?"

She felt a flush cover her face. "Not exactly, no."

He eyed her with a resignedly amused expression. When he spoke, his tone was light, but she saw the seriousness behind his question. "Why am I your authority on sex?" he asked with a small smile curving his lips.

She smiled back though she answered in the same vein of seriousness. "You telling me you're not?"

He hesitated, studying her frank expression. Leaning forward, he stuck his phone in his pocket and grabbed his lemonade. He took a deep pull before he answered. "I've had my fair share, I guess. But I'd hardly call myself an authority, by any means," he told her, settling back against the cushions.

She smiled to show she wasn't condemning him. "Definitely more than me."

He shot her a glance as he turned back to the screen. "You spent a large chunk of your twenties engaged," he pointed out.

"Wouldn't that usually mean I'd have more sex?" she asked, honestly confused.

"Maybe, but when you've been with someone for a while, you learn what works and what doesn't. You don't experiment as much."

"I'd always thought it meant you'd experiment more," she countered, embarrassed to hear the wistful note in her voice. To cover, she shrugged and turned back to the tv as well. "Though Connor isn't exactly the wild type."

"What's that mean?" Danny muttered to the edge of his glass before sipping his lemonade.

"Nothing, nothing at all." Completely embarrassed, she picked up her own glass and took a delicate drink.

Danny was quiet for a long moment and they both kept their eyes glued to the tv. The couple on screen was still going at it, now with artistic camera angles and swelling music.

"Once." Her head jerked to look at him, nearly knocking the glass out of her own hand, but his eyes were still on the movie. "I was seventeen, thought it'd be exciting." He shrugged as if to say he'd learned better.

Lindsay nodded calmly, though a riot of butterflies had been loosed in her stomach. Facing the screen, she tried to concentrate on the movie but slowly became aware of his eyes on her.

Swiveling her head to look at him, she found him gazing at her, his eyes twinkling. "What?"

"What do you mean it's not exactly on your list?" he asked, a cocky smile pulling at his lips.

Heat suffused her face. "Nothing," she muttered, sinking lower on the couch. Hearing him laugh, she hid a smile behind her glass.

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The doctor examined the shiny pinkness of the scar. "Well, your physical therapist says things have been improving dramatically."

Biting her lip, Lindsay stared up at Dr. Weston, waiting for his decision. He silently went to the door and pulled it open. Sticking his head into the hallway, he called, "Mr. Monroe, you can come back in now."

Sitting up, Lindsay straightened her shirt, still anxiously watching the doctor as he moved to pick up her chart. Freddy slipped through the door and pushed it closed behind him, his eyes locked on Dr. Weston.

"So what's the verdict? She ready to go home?"

Lindsay glanced at him in surprise, though she supposed she shouldn't be. She hadn't been silent on her desire to move back into her apartment.

"I don't see why not," the doctor murmured, glancing through the pages. "She's really quite healthy. I wouldn't go back to your usual exercise routine quite yet, and avoid the stairs in your building when you can, but otherwise you should be fine."

The relief was so great Lindsay would have collapsed if she hadn't already been sitting. As it was, her shoulders drooped with her sigh. Then realizing how ungrateful she might seem, she hurriedly looked at Freddy.

He was slumped against the wall, but he was watching her with a lazy half-smile. "Maybe now we'll stop biting each other's heads off," he told her, unconcerned.

"When can I leave?" Lindsay asked the slightly shocked doctor, and bit back a grin when Freddy laughed.

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"Do you have everything?" Freddy called to her.

"I think so." Taking one last look around the bathroom, she dropped her eyeliner into the small cosmetics bag and zipped it shut.

She came out to find Freddy sliding her duffel onto his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows. "That need to go in here?" he asked, pointing at the duffel.

Glancing down at it, she shook her head. "No, I'll just toss it in my purse. Is that really all I had here?" she asked, looking at the duffel in disbelief.

"I guess so. Who knew a woman could pack so lightly?"

Freddy grinned as she rolled her eyes. "I'd like to take this moment to point out that you and my mother packed that bag, not me," she said, leading him down the hallway.

"Damn I'm good."

Shaking her head, she stooped to pick up the computer bag already in the foyer. She settled it onto her shoulder and took a look around. The balcony was bathed in the afternoon sunlight and the light filtered through the glass wall to make patterns on the wood floor of the great room.

As she'd told Freddy that first night, it was beautiful, but she wasn't going to miss it.

Turning to Freddy, she grinned up at him and said, "Let's go."

"You wanna drive?" he asked, dangling the keys in front of her.

Almost reverently, she took them from him and started for the door, still staring down at them. "Danny was so jealous I got to drive this thing."

Freddy laughed and shifted her bag higher on his shoulder. Pushing the door open, he shrugged. "We'll see."

Smirking, Lindsay moved through and pressed the button for the elevator as Freddy locked the door behind them. "I think I'll let him be jealous."

Coming up next to her, Freddy let out a surprised laugh. "You're evil, Linny."

"Nah, I just like tormenting him," she joked as they stepped inside.

Freddy smiled tensely at her. "No, you don't."

Responding to his sudden seriousness, she swallowed. "No, I don't."

He nodded as if accepting some sort of argument she'd made and lapsed into silence. Nervous at his inexplicable shift of mood, she let the silence hang over them throughout the drive to her building and the search for a parking space.

Letting him brood behind her, she led the way through the front door and waited as he unlocked it with her keys. Leaving him holding the door, she stepped up to the elevator and pressed the button, glancing at Freddy as he walked up next to her.

"Elevator working?" he asked, handing her the keys.

"Seems to be." She shrugged and they fell into silence again.

When they reached her door, she fumbled with her keys, unused to the weight of them in her hand. But finally the door swung open and the coolness of her apartment swept over them.

The air was still and musty from being shut up for three months. Glancing in the kitchen, Lindsay was relieved to see there weren't any dishes in the sink and wondered briefly if her mother had done them while she was in the hospital. She led the way to the bedroom eagerly, setting her computer carrier on the desk as she passed.

As Freddy lifted her bag onto her bed, Lindsay watched him shake his shaggy hair out of his face. Oddly, she would miss seeing him every day. He was argumentative and difficult; refused to see things any way but his own; purposely embarrassed her just to amuse himself. But, really, those were the reasons she loved him.

And it had been novel, really, to see so much of him. Suddenly overwhelmed with how much she would miss him, she wrapped her arms around his middle. She felt him jerk in surprise, but he gently folded her in his long arms.

"Lindsay? You okay?"

"Thank you for staying with me, Freddy. I'm sorry I'm such a brat."

His body shook with his sigh. "You are a brat." She laughed, the sound muffled against his chest. "But I'm not exactly a picnic," he pointed out. "Two sides of the same coin and all."

He ran a hand over her hair and dropped a kiss on her head before letting go. "I should go."

For some reason, she clutched at his jacket. He looked slightly concerned, but laid his hands over hers comfortingly. "Lindsay, you'll be fine."

"I know, I just—" Cutting herself off, she forced her fingers to unclench and pulled her lips into the semblance of a smile. "Sorry. I'll be fine."

Freddy reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You'll be fine," he murmured back, as if the words alone would make it true. "Call Danny."

The advice was solid, but she didn't want Danny at the moment. She wanted the completely uncomplicated comfort of family, and Freddy was her only connection to that. Despite the urge to argue, she nodded. "I will."

"Come lock the door behind me."

She followed him back down the hallway, oddly truncated looking after Freddy's spacious apartment. She saw him glance down at her table as he passed and saw the light flashing on her machine.

"You have messages," he told her unnecessarily, making her wonder if he was as calm about their impending separation as he wanted her to think. Finally, they were at the door and staring at each other. "Oh, here."

From seemingly nowhere, Freddy handed her a paper bag. Taking the handle, she peered inside and saw a bottle of wine. "Thanks," she said, smiling at him and setting the bottle on her hall table.

He opened the door and turned to face her again. "Call me if you need anything. I'll be in town until January."

"Holy crap," she said mildly, holding onto the door as he backed over the threshold.

"Seriously." Rapping his knuckles on the doorframe, he paused then sighed. "Okay, here I go. Lock the door behind me," he added, pointing a finger at her.

She laughed. "Freddy, I'm a cop."

"A cop that doesn't carry. Who's ever heard of that?" he muttered, starting to move down the hall.

"Bye," she called, unoffended. He waved a hand at her without turning and disappeared through the door to the stairs.

Quickly shutting the door and sliding the locks and chain into place, she turned and surveyed her apartment. It was a bit dusty, but otherwise looked exactly as she'd left it, which seemed odd. Things had changed irrevocably, and she felt as though the spaces around her should have changed, too.

Shaking her head at her own nonsense, she marched over to the answering machine, determined to face the encroaching world head-on. She pressed the play button and waited.

"Hey, Lindsay."

She blinked at the sound of Connor's voice on her machine. As far as she knew, he didn't even have her home number, just her cell. Frowning at the silence that followed his greeting, she impatiently waited for him to continue.

"Brad gave me the number," he finally said, as if answering her unspoken question. "I just wanted you to have a friendly voice on your machine when you got home. Not that you'll be going home for a while."

Confused, Lindsay shook her head. When had he called?

"Anyway, I just wanted…Yeah. You know what I mean. I hope Messer's not there when you get this. Bye, Linds."

The machine beeped twice to note that this was, in fact, the only message she'd received while being out of commission for over three months. Unfortunately, she knew exactly what Connor meant and raised a hand to rub at her temple. This was a complication she did not need.

Sighing, she picked up the phone and dialed, waiting as it rang three times. "Hello?" her mother said calmly into the phone.

"Hi, Mom."

"Lindsay, what a nice surprise. I was just putting dinner in the oven. Can you hold on a second?"

"If you're busy, I could—"

Her mother let out an impatient breath. "Don't be silly."

Lindsay smiled as she heard the phone clatter onto the counter and the distant sounds of her mother moving things around in the kitchen.

Her mother sighed contentedly as she picked up the phone. "All right, that's done. Now what can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to let you know that the doctor gave the go ahead and Freddy moved me back into my apartment."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Lindsay. How did Freddy take it? He's been quite the little lion over you, you know."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I noticed. His idea of taking care of me was saving me from myself."

Molly laughed. "Well, you've always been his favorite."

Pleasure swept through Lindsay at the words. He'd always been her favorite, too. "Never quite understood why," she said to cover her embarrassing sentimentality.

"You were the only one who'd sit still long enough to let him talk. You'd sit with him for hours in front of those encyclopedias his father had," Molly remembered, sounding surprised to this day. "You'd just pepper him with questions. Even Trixie wasn't interested in that side of him for all her idol worship."

Lindsay couldn't think of anything to say as she let this sink in, but Molly didn't seem to mind. "Well, now that you're home, I can put this in the mail."

"What is it?" Lindsay asked eagerly, making Molly laugh at the excitement in her daughter's voice.

"Oh, just something I thought you might want." When Lindsay started to protest, Molly spoke over her. "Now tell me everything the doctor said."

Sighing resignedly, Lindsay began.

Hours later, Lindsay fell into bed, reveling in the familiar feel of her own mattress. Phone conversations exhausted her as a rule, but the call home had taken longer than she'd anticipated. Crawling under the covers, she tiredly lifted her cell phone and pressed the right speed dial.

"Messer," Danny answered and she wondered if she'd caught him at work.

"It's Lindsay. Is this a bad time?"

"Course not. What's up?"

Finally, she deciphered the constant noise in the background as a bass rhythm. "Are you at Sullivan's?"

He laughed. "Aren't you still out of commission, detective?"

"At least I'm home."

"As in back in your own apartment?" he asked, and she could hear the calm cheerfulness in his voice. "That's great."

She wasn't quite sure what to say to him, he was actually a little strange. "Yes, very exciting."

"Your folks know you're back home?"

The question seemed odd, but she shrugged it off. "Yeah, I called them already. They're very excited, too." She paused as he laughed. "Look, I'll let you get back to your night out."

"No, that's—"

"No, really," she insisted. "I'm pretty tired anyway."

"All right. Well, get some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure," she said, trying to sound as careless as he did. "Bye, Danny."

"Bye, Linds."

Hanging up the phone, she stared at the screen as it went dark then set it on the night table and turned off her lamp. The noises of the city were loud as they filtered up through the night. Freddy's penthouse had been so quiet at night, it was almost like being back in Montana. Strangely, as she'd discovered back home, the honking cars and shouts of New York were comforting now; proof that life was going on around her.

Even with the odd lullaby relaxing her muscles, her mind raced, uneasy with the conversation she'd had with Danny. It had been stiffer than usual on his part, the effect of others listening in on his end, she was sure. But, more than that, she felt guilty.

She'd deliberately avoided mentioning the message to Danny, just as she had with her mother. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by Connor's feelings—though she was—she just didn't want to have to explain why he'd done it when she understood so perfectly. Understood _him_ so perfectly.

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kiwi-messer: Sorry I didn't respond to you in the last couple chapters. I just posted Ch 14 as I had it finished last Wednesday. But thank you for the review! And I'm glad you're liking Two Steps Back. There are still a few more chapters to come, so I hope you keep reading!

qt4good: Yeah, I'll be posting chapters here, but I just want everyone to know where they can find my work if this site kicks me off again. Freddy…is a bit domineering. (shrugs) But he loves Lindsay more than anybody else. That's gotta give him points, right?

CarolinaH.Manning: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you're liking the story! Sometimes it does seem a little slow, but she's still healing so it has to be. Besides, the tension between them is just so delicious to write.

Marue61: He totally said he grew up with Bronx marble. Therefore, must be from the Bronx. Are we right or are we right? High five.

RachelHeidi: Sorry I didn't respond to your review last time. I just posted everything as I had it ready last Wednesday. I think you're right, Danny and Freddy are a lot alike in some ways, but completely different in others. You know, I wasn't a huge fan of the Mac/Peyton relationship (not that I was a Stella/Mac girl either) but it's starting to grow on me. It's interesting watching him learn how to care about another woman, even though he's sometimes supremely bad at it. And it was definitely an "aw" moment when he ran over everyone in his path to get to her. Sigh.

Murgy31: Most of Freddy's issues will be resolved in the next story, though they'll come up in the last few chapters of this one.

chili-peppers: I'm glad it's not going too slowly! I'm trying to jump ahead in time as quickly as I can, but I don't want to cut out all the Danny-being-there-for-her moments of her recovery. They're too sweet. The picnic was fun to write, so I'm glad it came across as light-hearted. I think they needed it after all the fighting.

ReJo: I've been defending Freddy and trying to make people like him, but I'm giving up. He really can be an ass, so, in the end, people may just understandably hate him. He'll be popping up in the last few chapters and in the next story. I hope he'll win people over, but…he really can be an ass. (shrugs helplessly)

prplerayne: Like I told ReJo, I adore Freddy, but he can be a supreme ass. I have his whole character in my head (how much he loves Lindsay, what's really going on with him, etc.) so I cut him a bit more slack than I probably should. Hopefully, as he continues to grow as a character, he'll win people's affection. I dunno. (By the way, what's an OFC? I'm so not up on the jargon. Smiles embarrassedly.)

Devilla: Hehe, I'm sorry you've been having withdrawals. Hopefully so many updates in the past day have made those a bit better. I fully believe that Danny would never try and go near a dinner like that unless Lindsay was involved. He so just did that to be with her.

Tenley: Millie was pretty hilarious to write. Especially since, before Lindsay, Danny wouldn't have been so resistant. And darn Freddy's timing, though he had a good point. Lindsay's in no shape to be jumping Danny in the foyer. More's the pity.

Ashley Booth: I'm sorry you were grounded! This site kicked me off for a week anyway, so you got back just in time for the last two updates.

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A.N. I hope to have the next chapter up in the next couple of days.


	17. Chapter 17

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Lindsay knew the moment she woke up what she had to do. It really was the only possible course of action.

She couldn't speak to her mother about Connor for fear that she'd tell her father. While they'd managed to speak on the phone nearly once a week without incident, she wasn't convinced that things were perfect and easy between them yet. So her mother wasn't an option.

And she couldn't talk to Danny about it. She wasn't sure how he'd react to knowing Connor was trying to situate himself back in her life, but she was sure that it wouldn't be positive.

There was only one person she could call who wouldn't be emotionally invested.

She rushed through her morning ablutions and wandered into the kitchen to make coffee. She would need the caffeine hit. When she opened the freezer door for the beans, she was shocked to discover the food stuffing it to the brim.

She quickly opened the bottom and discovered that it, too, was well stocked. With fresh food. Closing the door, she stared motionless at the fridge, her mind whirling through the possibilities. Abruptly, she remembered Freddy disappearing for several hours the day before, not returning until long after Mrs. C had finished cleaning and began preparing dinner.

Striding to the phone, she pulled it out of its cradle and dialed before moving back to the kitchen. With the phone ringing in her ear, she grabbed the beans from the freezer and hurriedly started the coffee pot.

"Hello?"

"Did you seriously need to stock my refrigerator? I could have gone today, you know."

"But then how would you have made breakfast?" Freddy asked.

Amusement made her lips curl up. "Freddy, I can't cook to save my life. Why would I make breakfast?"

The phone crackled as he changed ears. "You still can't cook? Doesn't Molly find that sacrilegious?"

"You can't cook, either," she pointed out defensively.

"Sure I can. I just hate it."

"Well aren't you Mr. Perfect," Lindsay grumbled, huffing when Freddy laughed on the other end.

"Did you call Danny?"

Lindsay bit her lip. "Sort of."

"Okay, what does that mean?"

"Well, I called, but he was out with friends, so we didn't really talk."

Freddy was quiet for a minute. "His choice or yours?" he asked dangerously.

Sighing, Lindsay tapped her finger on the counter, watching the coffee slowly fill the pot. "Mine, I guess. It just felt awkward."

"That's too bad. Call him again," Freddy said, his voice suddenly growing absent as if something had caught his attention.

"It's his turn," she protested, grabbing a mug from her cabinet. A swear word came across the line. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's this stupid laptop. My file seems to have magically disappeared," he muttered. She could hear him banging at the keys. Then the noise stopped and he sighed. "Lindsay, you can't focus on who's turn it is to call whom. Who needs to make the next move. Your relationship with this man is way too complicated. You're both walking on eggshells already. Just make the call."

"But—"

"Do you want him or not?"

Lindsay's jaw dropped open. "Freddy!"

He took a patient breath in her ear. "Lindsay, make the damn call." He paused. "You don't happen to know how to fix computers, do you?"

She snorted and poured coffee in her mug. "Not for you, I don't."

"Oh, gee. Thanks—"

Hanging up, she tossed the phone onto the counter and pulled out the milk Freddy had put in her fridge. Once her mug of caffeine was prepared, she felt ready and she picked up the handset again.

"Angell."

"Hey, Jen."

"Hey," she said eagerly. "So you're back in your apartment, huh?"

"How did you—"

"I heard Danny mention it to Stella this morning. I was going to call, but I didn't want to wake you."

"Are you working tomorrow?" Lindsay asked abruptly.

Jen paused before answering. "No, why?"

"Well, I'm officially off the pain meds, so I thought we could go to Sullivan's."

"What's going on?" Jen asked.

Sighing, Lindsay curled up in her big arm chair, her mug cradled against her chest. "I need to talk to you. And…I need to be drunk to do it."

"That's always a good sign," Jen mumbled, then took a deep breath. "All right, meet me here at eight."

"And I can't risk running into Danny," Lindsay quickly added.

"Then is Sullivan's really the best place?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Lindsay cleared her throat. "He went out last night, I don't think he'd go out two nights in a row."

"Not any more at least," Jen agreed. "Okay then. I'll meet you at our usual table at eight."

"Thanks, Jen."

"Since when is hanging out with you a favor?" Jen asked, hanging up before Lindsay could respond.

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It felt weird being out at night. Hell, it felt weird being out at all.

Glancing around the bar for the umpteenth time, Lindsay wished she'd picked a different meeting place. She'd thought the familiarity of Sullivan's would make this easier, but it was just putting her on edge.

Finally, Jen walked through the door and spotted her. "Hey," she called with a slight wave.

Lindsay watched in amusement as every male in the vicinity turned their heads to watch Jen walk by. "Hey," she responded, slightly surprised when Jen leaned over to kiss her cheek instead of hugging her.

Apparently not noticing Lindsay's bemusement, Jen casually leaned a hip against the table and laid on a hand on the worn wood. "Are we going to need beer or something stronger?"

"Something stronger," Lindsay said grimly, the nerves coming back in full force.

"Coming right up."

Moments later, Jen was making her way back to the booth, followed by the bartender and a tray. Lindsay stared in mild shock as the bartender lined up ten shot glasses and filled them with tequila. When he was done, she smiled at him and he nodded. "Welcome back, Monroe," he said in his thick brogue.

"Thanks," she said to his back as he walked away.

"First thing first," Jen muttered, pushing a shot glass in Lindsay's direction along with the salt.

"Right."

Licking her hand, she shook the salt out and handed it back to Jen who mirrored the action. Simultaneously, they tossed the shots back and set the glasses aside.

"I used to be engaged."

Jen blinked at her as Lindsay stared back, just as shocked as Jen. She really had meant to lead up to it. "What happened?" Jen asked, toying with her glass.

Lindsay sighed. "I broke it off."

"Okay," Jen said, nodding slowly. "Why?"

"I didn't love him. I never had, not that way." Now that she'd started, it was hard to get her mouth to stop moving or the words to stop pouring out. "He was my older brother's best friend—"

Jen held up a hand. "Wait, you were engaged to Connor?"

"I forgot you met him," Lindsay said with a wan smile. "Yes, I was engaged to Connor. He asked me when I was nineteen and I said yes. But I didn't love him."

"Then why did you say yes?" Jen asked, pushing another shot in Lindsay's direction.

Lindsay waited to respond until after they'd tossed the shots back and stuffed the remainder of the limes into the glasses. "He'd saved my family's ranch. And my father loved him so much," she said, feeling the tears well up.

Sighing, she ran a hand over her face. "I couldn't say no."

"But you did eventually," Jen surmised, eyes roving over her friend's face.

"Yeah. Five years later. Sterling, I know," Lindsay said when she saw Jen's wide gaze. "I explained it to him. That I had thought I could love him, that life in Montana would be enough for me. But that I'd been wrong. It wasn't a nice way to do it, but it was the only way I could think of."

"Why is this coming up now?"

Lindsay winced and pushed a shot at Jen. Afterwards, she took a deep breath, grateful for the fogginess that the tequila was creating. "Connor wants to get back together."

Jen blinked at her owlishly, obviously beginning to feel the alcohol herself. "How do you know?" she asked, her voice still clear as a bell.

"He left this message on my machine. I think it was back when I was still in the hospital, when he had to leave for Montana again."

"He left a message for you that he knew you wouldn't get for months?" Jen asked, and Lindsay nodded eagerly, glad she understood. "What did it say?"

"That he wanted me to hear a friendly voice when I got home. And that he hoped Danny wasn't there to hear it."

Jen's eyes widened. "No."

"Yes," Lindsay said seriously.

They took another shot.

Lindsay sucked at the lime with more enthusiasm than she had the previous three shots. Jen was shaking her head. "That rat bastard."

"He's not a bastard. He's just…" Trailing off, Lindsay wondered what she could possibly say about Connor. He was an enigma to most people. How did one explain an enigma?

"In love with you?" Jen offered and Lindsay winced again. "Does Danny know you were engaged to Connor?"

"Oh, yes," Lindsay said quickly. "I told him in Montana."

She suddenly felt much more sober than she had a few minutes before. "I have to tell him, don't I?" Lindsay murmured, raising a hand to her temple.

Jen watched her carefully and waited to speak until Lindsay looked up again. "No, you don't."

Jen's voice had lost its drunkenness as well, though Lindsay knew it was just lying dormant in the seriousness of the conversation. She opened her mouth to respond, but Jen was faster.

"What would you tell him?" Jen asked, raising her palms upward in a shrug. "I'm sorry, Danny, but my ex-fiancé is trying to get back together?" She frowned. "Maybe you should tell him."

Lindsay started to agree but then Jen was shaking her head. "No, no. Don't tell him. You're not going to get back together with Connor, right?" Lindsay nodded eagerly. "Good. Then Danny doesn't have to know."

"Why?"

"He'd go crazy," Jen said casually, sliding the last two shots around the table. "I mean, look how he reacted to Emery, and you turned Emery down."

Lindsay reached out and grabbed the last shot glass. "You're right. I know. You're right. But I feel so guilty."

"Why? Why should you feel guilty?" Jen asked, big dark eyes concerned.

"Because…I don't know. Maybe I led Connor on somehow? Did I lead him on?" After a pause, she shook her head firmly. "No. No, I did not."

"That's right. Because you're in love with Messer."

"No, not love," Lindsay stressed, drawing out the sounds of the last word almost cartoonishly. "We've never even been on a date."

"What do you call what you've been doing?" Jen asked, dangling the salt shaker in front of Lindsay's face.

Licking her hand again, Lindsay made a face at the light remnants of salt, but shook some more on her hand anyway. Jen had created a small tequila puddle around her shot glass by pushing it around the table and Lindsay waited as her friend tried to get a hold of the slippery glass.

Letting her eyes drift around the room, she was surprised to find that the bar had filled in the time it had taken for them to have their conversation. She briefly considered offering the empty space of their booth to a couple that stood nearby—they just looked so nice—then came to her senses as Jen made a triumphant noise.

They took their shots, which seemed a bit anticlimactic after the preparation Jen had required, then sat in silence. "Not dating, exactly," Lindsay finally said.

Jen frowned. "What?"

"Danny and I. We haven't exactly been dating. We've been hanging out. Like friends. But there's tension, like…a…a…"

"Sexual tension?" Jen supplied gravely, leaning forward.

"Yes," Lindsay agreed, pointing a finger across the table at Jen. "And it makes it feel like dating. But there's no chance of…of…"

"Sex?"

"Yes." Lindsay nodded to underscore the importance of this point. "It's like, he wants to touch me, I want him to touch me, but we can't yet."

"Why not?"

Lindsay stared at her seriously. "The doctor hasn't said it's okay yet." For some reason, this sent Jen into hysterics. Lindsay blinked in bewilderment. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry," Jen gasped. "Nothing. Nothing. So the doctor told you you couldn't sleep with Danny?"

"Well, not Danny specifically," Lindsay began, only to frown when Jen started laughing again. "What is so funny?"

Jen calmed herself again, wiping tears from her eyes. "Sorry. Nothing. You need to go on a date."

"I know," Lindsay said, still eyeing Jen carefully. "But how can I ask him on a date when he's still afraid he might break me if he so much as breathes on me?"

"Is that the problem?" Jen asked.

Lindsay watched in fascination as Jen lined their shot glasses up in an empty row. She tilted her head to the side and stared at them as she answered. "Yeah. It's Freddy's fault, I think. Danny was finally looking like he was going to make a move and then Freddy comes out of no where and puts the fear of God in him."

Pulling her eyes away from the glasses, she found Jen watching her. "The fear of God?"

"Well, the fear that I'd start bleeding internally if we had sex." Jen's eyebrows shot up her forehead and Lindsay wondered when she'd lost the ability to control her mouth. "I mean from the wound."

"I knew what you meant, I just don't see how that would happen at this stage."

"It's just not a good idea for my abdominal muscles to be undergoing the type of stress they would when…contorting into different positions," Lindsay finished primly, nudging a glass in line that was slightly off kilter.

"But wouldn't it be worth it?" Jen purred, playing with the bits of lime left over.

Dropping her head onto her arms, Lindsay groaned dramatically. She felt Jen's hand patting her head and squashed the urge to laugh at the absurdity of her situation. Her pseudo-boyfriend refused to make a move on her because he was afraid he'd kill her with pleasure.

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Two cups of coffee, several Tylenol, four pep talks and fifteen hours later, Lindsay picked up the phone and dialed his number.

"Messer," he barked over the line. She wondered vaguely if he was having a bad day at work, but shrugged off the urge to ask.

"So," she said without preamble. "I have a bottle of wine my uncle gave me, and I really don't think I should finish it alone."

"Good instinct," Danny agreed seriously. What sounded like a foghorn blared somewhere near him. "I get off at five."

"Bring dinner?"

"Deal."

Lindsay paused, frowning when someone yelled confusing words about halibut. "Where are you?"

"It's a long story," he told her, his voice loud as he tried to speak over the yelling. "I'll, uh, tell you about it over dinner."

"All right," she said, smiling a little. "Give me a call when you're heading over."

"Sounds good."

"Bye, Danny."

"Later."

Hanging up the phone, Lindsay studied it as though it could solve the mystery that was Danny Messer. It didn't offer anything, and she eventually tossed it down onto the cushion next to her.

If Danny got off at five, he wouldn't be there for easily another four hours, earliest around seven. Sighing, she stood from the couch and resigned herself to restless baking. Food was good for hangovers anyway.

When the buzzer sounded at six, Lindsay frowned and checked her watch. Slowly, she slipped the oven mitt off her hand and strode across the room, idly smacking it against her leg as she went.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she leaned on the button. "Yes?"

"Hey, it's Danny."

Lindsay's eyes widened. "Hey. Come on up."

Pressing the buzzer, she groaned aloud. Her shirt wasn't covered in flour, but after wearing it most of the day, it wasn't exactly flattering. Jeans were fine, she had been planning to wear them anyway. But she desperately wished she'd run a brush through her hair recently.

As she was touching her tousled curls with a grimace, his knock sounded loud on the wood of her door. Sighing, she flipped the locks and swung the door open. He, of course, looked amazing despite the probability that he'd been wearing the same clothes all day.

She smiled ruefully and moved to the side. "Hey. You're earlier than I thought you'd be."

"Sorry," he said not very remorsefully.

He grinned down at her, switching the bag in his left to his right hand. As he wrapped his arm around her in a loose one-armed hug, she glanced curiously down at the bags.

"What's in these?" she asked, still savoring the contact.

"Dinner," he told her, letting go and moving towards the kitchen, where he suddenly halted. "Upset or bored?"

She sidestepped and squeezed past him through the doorway. "Most definitely bored." Quickly, she moved muffins out of his way.

"How many muffins did you bake?" he asked, sounding shocked as he reached up to set the bags on the cleared counter.

She hesitated, counting silently. "Seven or eight batches. Stephen stopped by earlier and took some."

"Stephen?"

His voice was casual, but pointed, making her glance at him. Busying himself with the contents of his bags, he avoided her gaze and she blinked in confusion. "Guy who lives down the hall."

Danny finally looked at her with raised eyebrows. Frowning, Lindsay watched as he crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the counter, abandoning the groceries.

"Oh," she murmured, understanding. She felt a shy smile spread across her face. "Wife, two kids. Brian, their youngest, has a thing for blueberry muffins."

Danny's face cleared and he reached behind him to pick up a muffin. "You do bake well," he said, breaking off a piece and popping it in his mouth.

"Thanks."

Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes and began spooning the last of the batter into the paper-lined muffin tin. The bags rustled again and she glanced over to see Danny taking things out of the bag. Raw things. Garlic, tomatoes, chicken breasts, a bottle of wine.

"You know, when I said you were in charge of dinner, I didn't mean you had to make it," Lindsay told him, spoon frozen and dripping above the bowl.

"Never look a gift chicken marsala in the mouth," Danny warned her, a smug expression on his face.

Lindsay's mouth automatically watered. "I'm so glad I can eat real food again."

"Me, too." His voice was low and serious as he met her eyes.

The look there, exclaiming his feelings, made her want to jump him desperately. She felt the need spread across her face and tried not to look away in embarrassment like she usually did. Whatever he saw in her face made his eyes drop to the garlic he still held. They both stood completely still, Lindsay trying to remember how to breathe, Danny staring blankly at the garlic.

Suddenly, as if remembering why he held the garlic in the first place, Danny strode the two steps across the kitchen. "Olive oil?" he asked, his voice low.

"Left cabinet."

"Cutting board?"

Reaching over, she picked it up from the top of the microwave. Wiping a hand on her apron, she swiveled to hand it to him just as he turned from the cabinet. They collided in the small kitchen and Lindsay grabbed a handful of shirt at his hip to steady herself.

"Sorry," she said quickly, still a little off balance.

"S'all right." He cleared his throat and she looked up to find him staring down at her. His eyes smoldered, driving away any thoughts of his previous rejection. Right up until she realized that she was still leaning against him, clutching his shirt.

As if she'd been burned, she jumping back, wincing as her elbow smacked against a low cabinet. "Ow," she hissed, cupping her empty hand around it.

"You okay?" Danny asked tightly.

Nodding, Lindsay sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good," he murmured.

With a start, she realized he was still staring at her, in fact hadn't moved an inch. Tension held him rigid as a deep breath shook his chest.

"You okay?" she asked with a short laugh.

"When's your next doctor's appointment?"

Confused by the question, she paused and wracked her brain. "A week from Wednesday, I think. Why?"

"Is that your last?"

"No, I have to go back in a few months for a checkup."

Danny nodded and shut his eyes. Watching him, Lindsay let her eyes sweep over him as he gathered himself. The button-up shirt stretched across his shoulders and lay flat and loose across his stomach muscles.

Abruptly turning to face her stove, he set the garlic and olive oil down and picked a skillet off the hanging rack. Dazed, Lindsay cleared more space off the counter and set the cutting board down.

Carefully, she slid the glove back on and pulled the muffin tin off the counter. She turned around and was confronted with Danny's back, just a foot away in the close quarters.

Suppressing a groan, she moved next to him and smiled shyly. "Could I just…"

He glanced at her and moved out of the way. Pulling the door open, she quickly bent over to slide the tin inside. Her butt brushed his leg and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She rose so quickly her head spun, and she slammed the over door shut.

"All yours," she squeaked, unable to look at him.

"Thanks." He looked dark but also resignedly amused.

With great enthusiasm, she attacked the dishes from the muffin spree. She concentrated so hard on the dishes, she almost managed to ignore Danny moving behind her. Finally, the last was done and she settled it in the rack next to the sink. Glad Danny was still chopping tomatoes, she quickly opened the oven and removed the last of the muffins.

"I'm gonna go change," she muttered, untying the apron.

"All right," he said with a light cough.

Hurrying into the bedroom, she nearly slammed the door. Leaning against it, she dropped her face in her hands and tried to calm her riotous heartbeat. This was not going as she'd planned at all.

She'd never felt like this before. Ever. If he touched her right now she was fairly certain she'd burst into flames.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin and strode to her closet. She flung the door open and grabbed the first lightweight sweater she saw. Yanking off her shirt and pulling the sweater over her head, she reached for her brush before she'd even straightened the garment over her hips. She didn't want Danny thinking she was primping for him.

A quick glance in the mirror told her fixing what little makeup she had on wasn't necessary; none of it had migrated below her eyes. And adding lipstick or powder would be too obvious now. The dark wash jeans looked fine with the light purple sweater; no flour anywhere. All in all, with how little she could do to prepare, her outfit was passable.

Her hair, on the other hand, was hopeless. Sighing, she pulled it back in a messy bun, fixing it in place with an elastic band as she moved to the door. The smell of garlic made her moan involuntarily as she came back into the kitchen.

"God that smells good," Lindsay murmured, coming into the kitchen behind him.

He grinned at her over his shoulder. "Garlic is man's best friend."

Laughing, Lindsay shook her head, feeling small tendrils of hair shake loose to float around her face. Maybe the hair situation was looking up. "I always thought that was coffee."

"You were wrong," he told her very seriously, making her laugh again.

Glad the tension had dissipated as rapidly as it had appeared, she pulled out several cookie tins and baskets and began lining them with wax paper. "So where were you earlier when I called?" she asked, suddenly remembering his promise.

Danny snorted. "Fish market over by the Hudson."

Lindsay blinked at his back, hands full of muffins. "Why?"

"Hawkes found a guy's card in our vic's wallet," he explained, carefully flipping the chicken breasts. "Turns out the guy was our vic's lover."

"Lover?"

Nodding, Danny lowered the heat on the skillet and settled himself against the counter facing her. "Explains the vanilla we found all over his body."

Lindsay frowned as Danny crossed his arms. "Wine's behind you if you want to open it," she told him, gesturing absently as she packed the muffins into one of the tins. "How exactly does that explain the vanilla?"

Danny picked up the bottle and the corkscrew next to it. "Our suspect, Ralph, spends the day chopping fish. He says the only thing that takes the smell away is soaking his hands in vanilla. Apparently, it's pretty common," he said with a shrug.

"I've never heard of that," Lindsay murmured as he popped the cork.

"You know a lot of fishermen?" Danny asked with a smirk. "Glasses?"

She made a face at him and pointed. "That cabinet." He poured a glass and set in on the counter near her. She smiled her thanks. "So is Ralph still a suspect then?"

Danny let out a breath. "Everything we have points to him," he admitted then looked hesitant. "But my gut says no."

"Why?" Lindsay asked, taking a sip of her wine.

"I'm not sure." He stepped back to the stove and turned off the burner.

Lindsay watched, fascinated, as he tossed vegetables in with the chicken, then opened the over door and slid the skillet inside. Closing the oven door with one hand, he reached up and lowered the heat under the covered saucepan.

Idly, she wondered if he used his skills in the kitchen to seduce women. Because it would work. She tamped down on the spurt of jealousy, trying to remind herself that he was here with her, not some other woman.

"Almost done," he murmured, sipping his own wine.

"I'll set the table."

Tapping the lid into place on the final—full—muffin tin, Lindsay moved around the counter and set it on top of the pile. She shook her head as she pulled out plates.

"How in God's name am I going to eat this many muffins?" she muttered.

Danny chuckled. "Frankly, I have no clue."

Lindsay sent him a wry smile and put the plates on her small table. "Thanks, Danny. That's real helpful."

Grinning, he turned back to the stove. "You wanna help me make the salad?"

"Now that I can do," Lindsay murmured, coming back to the kitchen to stand next to him.

She smiled up at him, and he paused briefly, as if startled. When she tilted her head questioningly, he shook himself and reached into the bag.

"We'll need a bowl," he said quietly, examining the cucumber he'd just pulled out.

"Okay. Watch your head," she warned him as she stretched to open the cabinet. The bowl was a little too far back on the shelf and she bit her lip. "Could you—?"

"Sure," he said.

While he was busy, she let the wince out and rubbed at the scar through her sweater. He started to turn and she dropped her hand, smiling brightly.

He frowned, eyes flicking down to her side and up again. "You all right?"

"Yeah," she said, brushing off his concerned tone and taking the bowl. "What do I do?"

His expression went blank. "You've never made a salad before?"

"Of course I have," she scoffed. Picking up the cucumber, she frowned at it. "I just always stopped at lettuce. Maybe tomato if I was feeling fancy."

"Fancy?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I'll deal with the cucumber. You get the carrots." He paused and looked at her earnestly. "You can chop carrots, right?"

"Shut up, Dan," she said, shoving him a little. But she was smiling as he moved behind her, laughing.

"Where's your vegetable peeler?" he asked when he'd calmed.

She stared at him blankly, eyes innocent. "My what?"

The look of banked horror on his face broke her resolve and sent her into a fit of giggles. "That drawer," she said, pointing.

He shook his head, an inordinate amount of relief visible on his face as he rummaged through the drawer. "You nearly gave me a heart attack," he muttered, pulling out the peeler and cradling it protectively.

"You Italians and your food. I'm not quiet as inept as you seem to think."

"You think tomatoes in salad are fancy," he reminded her, peeling the cucumber over the sink.

"Shut up," she said cheerfully and he laughed again.

Partly because of his skepticism and partly because of her own competitive nature, she took her time with the carrots, cutting each slice exactly the same width as the last. By the time she was finished, he'd put the rest of the salad together and was bringing the rest of the food out of the oven.

"Are you done yet?" he asked dryly, sounding impatient.

"Hold your horses, Messer." Dumping the carrots in the bowl, she grabbed the salad tongs out of the canister near the stove and neatly inserted them into the salad. Then she picked up the bowl and grinned at him.

He sighed and motioned to the table. She hid her smirk as she brought the bowl out, sitting as he refilled her glass and his own.

"Everyone at work's good?" she asked when he sat across from her.

Holding out his hand for her plate, he eyed her and she knew he'd seen through the question. "They're good. Have you talked to Mac yet?"

"Kind of," she hedged, toying with her fork as he served the chicken marsala.

Danny sent her a sharp glance as he handed the plate back to her. "And that means?"

She shrugged. "Basically, I hinted that I'd like to come back to work soon and he hinted that I wasn't ready."

"Hinted or said?" he asked, setting his own plate down and scooting his chair closer to the table.

"I believe his exact words were 'When you can jog up a flight of stairs, we'll talk.'"

"That's progress," Danny teased. "Last month he gave Adam the death glare when he asked how soon you were coming back."

"You were right back out in the field as soon as you could rotate your arm," Lindsay argued. "I'm just asking for the lab."

"Lindsay, you were shot. It's a bit more complicated than a dislocated shoulder," Danny pointed out, his voice still gentle.

She looked down at the chicken and reluctantly started to cut into it. "Yeah, I know."

"Stella had a date."

With the first bite still halfway to her mouth, Lindsay's head jerked up. "What?"

"Couple nights ago."

"She didn't mention that," Lindsay murmured, her fork hovering. Finally, she remembered the chicken and put the bite in her mouth. Nearly moaning, she let her eyes fall shut. "This is really good."

"Thanks," he said, grinning slightly.

"Do you know who it was?"

He stilled and frowned. "Who?"

"Stella's date. Do you know who it was?"

"Oh. No idea," he said calmly, blinking at her when she groaned. "What?"

"Useless," she muttered.

"Hey, at least I had the information," he pointed out, sounding disgruntled.

"And how did you come across this information?"

"Sid told me."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Since when is Sid the expert on lab goings on?" She stopped and thought back to the year before. "He's probably right." Hurriedly, she stuffed more chicken in her mouth.

Danny eyed her warily. "What?"

"Nothing."

"All right." He still looked suspicious, but he willingly turned his attention to the meal.

"So tell me about your guy Ralph. Why don't you think he did it?"

Slowly shaking his head, Danny absently cut the chicken on his plate into dozens of pieces. "I don't know, Montana. It just…He was devastated when we told him Simons was dead." Lindsay frowned, nodding to encourage Danny to continue. "But, like I told you, everything we have points to him. All the fingerprints in Simons apartment. The trace. Everything."

He went on, listing off the evidence he and Hawkes had collected. The case was obviously getting to him; he was able to recite every piece and where he'd found it almost mechanically. Lindsay let him talk, interrupting his flow only when he paused and even then just to ask a question that would get him going again.

They'd half finished the bottle of wine when they stood to put the food away and wash the dishes. And Danny kept talking, as if he'd been waiting all day to pour this out to her. But maybe it was the wine he'd been guzzling.

"So the only thing you have that you can't tie back to Ralph or Simons is the strand of hair?" Lindsay asked, drying the last dish as Danny tried to find space for the salad remains in the fridge.

He straightened and jerked his chin towards the wall of food. "I thought you don't cook."

Lindsay laughed, wiping her hands on the dish towel and tossing it on the counter. Moving over to him, she crouched to begin rearranging. "I don't."

"What happened?" he asked, still standing above her.

"Freddy happened." She sighed. "He seems to think I'm a teenage boy."

Glancing back up at him with a smile, she explained, "When the doctor gave me leave to come home, Freddy went out and stocked my fridge."

Danny chose not to respond, instead returning to the previous topic. "That strand could just be a random piece of evidence," he pointed out, handing her the Tupperware when she held her hand up for it.

"The apartment sounds too clean for random hair samples." With a shove, she managed to fit the container in the small space she'd created through sheer will.

"Yeah," Danny said, his breath whooshing from his lungs in a defeated sigh.

Standing, she turned to find him staring at her with a hopeless expression. "You'll figure it out," she assured him. "You always do."

"No, I don't," he murmured gently, letting her down easily. His eyes bored into her, as if he was trying to remind her that he wasn't a white knight or a genius. She smiled back, unconcerned with the truth of it.

"Nobody does." She shrugged and moved into the living room, snatching up the bottle of wine and her glass as she went. "But you'll get this one."

He chuckled humorlessly behind her. "Okay, new topic."

She grinned at him, kicking off her shoes and settling herself into the corner of her couch. "You pick," she offered with a grand tone.

"Gee, thanks." He thought for a moment, carefully filling his wine glass before offering her the bottle. "Okay," he finally said as she took it from him. "Tell me something about yourself."

"What?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

His smile widened at her embarrassed expression. "Come on, Montana. Tell me something I don't know."

She let the smile slide off her face to stare at him seriously. "I hate bunnies."

"What?" he asked, laughter exploding from him.

"No, I'm serious," she protested, though she laughed along with him. Reaching over, she placed the bottle on the table and took a sip from her glass. "When I was six, I begged my father for a bunny so Shelby and I could show it at the 4-H competitions."

"4-H?" he repeated, leaning back against the arm of the couch so he could face her.

"Head, heart, hands, health," she listed off. "It's an organization for kids and teens. It's supposed to teach them about leadership, citizenship, kind of an alternative to girl scouts or boy scouts."

"And you were in this group?" he asked, looking mystified.

"Not exactly." She hesitated and took a fortifying sip of wine, making Danny chuckle a little. "It all goes back to the bunny, actually."

"The one you asked your dad for."

"Right. When I was six," she repeated in case he'd forgotten. He nodded seriously to show he was listening. "So my dad gets me a bunny and Shelby and I are all excited, until we try and touch it."

She let her eyes widen at Danny. "The thing was evil. It bit both of us and tried to scamper away before Brad managed to catch it for us. We went to my dad and begged him to get a new one but he put his foot down. Said we were the ones who wanted a bunny, we had to deal with the consequences."

"Talk about throwing a kid in the deep end," Danny murmured sympathetically.

Lindsay sighed resignedly. "You have no idea. That thing was vicious. But we dealt with it, taking turns feeding it and cleaning its cage. And we were determined to get it into the 4-H livestock show."

"The what?" he asked, his lips twitching and eyes twinkling.

"Shut up, Messer." He let the chuckles loose and took a sip of his wine, watching her over the edge of the glass. "But in order to get in, we had to have the thing—"

"The thing?" he repeated, eyebrows raised.

"The bunny," she said grudgingly. "We had to have the bunny appraised by a 4-H judge, so we had to take it to the next meeting. Everyone brought their entries that night. Pigs, a couple goats, hens, mostly bunnies and rabbits. But, of course, Sassafras was the only one that got loose."

"Sassafras?" he said, disbelief written all over his face.

Ignoring him, Lindsay concentrated on the vaguely remembered mortification. "Bunnies may be evil, but they're also fast. Shelby and I chased it around the entire show room, knocking cages over, scaring the larger livestock. Eventually, one of the judged picked it up and brought it back to us before asking us to try another event. Shelby and I never went to another meeting," she ended on a laugh.

She let the laugh trail off and took a gulp of wine, her cheeks flushed slightly at the old embarrassment. When she finally managed to meet his eyes again, all traces of amusement were gone from his face.

"Tell me something serious," he requested suddenly. His face was almost tense, like he'd hung expectations on her response.

"Like what?" she asked nervously. His eyes were overly bright and she wondered if it was the lighting or the wine.

"What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?" Danny asked, raising his glass.

"How will I choose?" Lindsay joked, making him grin. But he was serious, she could tell, and so she bit her lip.

She wracked her brain for a moment, struggling to think of anything but the obvious. Watching him, waiting for her answer, she felt the smile slide off her face. Maybe he needed to know anyway; or maybe she needed to say it, tell someone what she'd done.

She cleared her throat. "I was nineteen. I'd just figured out that Connor was going to ask me to marry him and I knew I had to say yes."

He was studying her now, his face purposefully blank as he swirled the wine in his glass.

"We'd never—" She paused, gulping at the sweet wine. "We hadn't had sex yet. He'd never pushed and I didn't really want—"

She closed her eyes. "This is kind of embarrassing," she said wryly, rubbing her forehead.

His expression didn't change as he watched her, which, oddly, made her more nervous. Then she felt a flare of anger at herself. She'd started this; she had to finish it.

"I didn't want him to be my first, my last." She rolled her eyes at her younger self's melodrama. "So, I started going to the pool hall near campus. I didn't have a fake id, so bars were out," she explained.

"I saw this guy, probably a drop out now that I think about it, but I wasn't interested in that at the time. After a few nights, I noticed he left with a different girl every time he came in.

"So, I studied the girls he left with and took note of what he liked. Short skirts, stilettos, tight shirts. He was a simple man," she muttered dryly, staring into her wine.

"One night, I got dressed up, went to find him and challenged him to a game of pool. I let him win and he took me back to his apartment."

She shrugged. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever done." Pausing, she cocked her head to the side consideringly. "Though standing you up is a close second."

Danny didn't laugh at her lame joke and, after a minute of silence staring, she drained her glass. "What about you? What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?"

His too-bright eyes bored into hers and she felt her brow furrow. "Seriously, Danny, if you could say something, anything, that'd be great."

"Was it good for you?"

Ironically, it was his question that made her cheeks flame. Throughout telling the story, she hadn't felt the least bit warm.

"Well, let's see," she said, adopting a wry tone to cover her mortification. "I didn't tell him I was a virgin, he was pretty drunk and…large. I'm small. No, it wasn't good for me."

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she reached over to set her wine glass on the table. She was surprised when Danny set his down, too; his glass was nearly full.

Carefully, he edged towards her on the couch. "What about after that?"

"After that?" she repeated breathlessly as his fingers gently brushed her arm.

"Since Connor, how many?"

Her eyes widened as what he was asking sunk in. "Danny—"

"How many?" he murmured, leaning even closer. His eyes drew hers inexorably and she couldn't resist swaying towards him.

"Just one," she whispered.

Something flashed behind his eyes, too quickly for her to read. Whatever it was, it made his pupils dilate and his irises darken to cobalt. Swallowing convulsively, she let out a shaky breath as his fingers trailed across the skin of her arm. He must have heard it because he stopped moving, eyes never leaving hers.

Then he was pulling away, so far away, until he was on the other end of the couch again. Grabbing his glass off the table, he drained it.

She watched his movements in fascination. The way his fingers tightened around the stem of the wine glass. The way his breath hitched as he swallowed.

"Would you do it again?"

The question made her jump. He still wasn't facing her, so he didn't see her shrug. "I don't know. Probably," she added after thinking about it for a minute.

"Why?" he muttered, scowling at his hands.

"I did it because I thought Connor was going to be my entire future. He wasn't what I wanted, but I accepted it. I just…"

She exhaled noisily and threw her hands in the air. "I hadn't lived, yet. I didn't want Connor to be my adventure. But I was too scared to get out completely. So I let myself have one taste, just one."

"A taste of what?" Danny asked. His forehead wrinkled in confusion.

Lindsay scrambled for the word. "Life, I guess."

Danny nodded as if he understood, though he still looked confused. "Are you still scared?" he asked quietly.

She wondered how much of the wine he'd had. It wasn't a question she ever would have expected to hear falling from Danny Messer's lips. But he'd asked, so she tried to focus her mind on what he really meant.

"No, I'm not."

His eyes searched her face. "Then how do you feel?"

"For the first time, I feel…I feel—" She paused, her mouth struggling to force words out, but unable to find the right ones to describe what she'd felt since the trial, since waking up in the hospital.

"I want to do things," she said finally, with wide, excited eyes, letting the giddiness fill her until she practically vibrated with it. His face eased and a small smile curved his lips as he watched her. "I want to parasail. Have you ever been parasailing? I want to learn to cook. I want to travel. I want to have drunken sex. Can you believe I've never had drunken sex?"

When he appeared to be considering the question, she waved a hand dismissively, still smiling. "Don't answer that."

He started laughing and she leaned towards him, laughing at herself. "I want to do things, Danny. I want to live. I've never really wanted that before."

The words calmed him, but he was still grinning at her as if she was the most amazing thing. It made her ache, but unlike the pain in her side that still intermittently overwhelmed her, this ache was wonderful.

"All right," he said, smiling directly into her eyes.

Her own smile didn't fade though she felt her forehead wrinkle. "What?"

"Make a list, we'll do it all," he told her. "What was first? Drunken sex? We'll need a little more of this, I think."

He lifted the bottle of wine and shook it gently. Groaning, Lindsay threw a pillow at him, laughing despite herself. It was a dizzy laughter, almost desperate, because she knew without a doubt that was exactly what they'd be doing if she didn't have a hole in her side.

"I can't believe I said that," she said, chuckling more calmly now.

Danny shrugged easily. "It's late. And you're a little drunk."

"Yeah, like you're stone cold sober."

"Speaking of which," he mumbled, pouring the last of the wine into his glass. Lindsay laughed and he sent her a sideways grin as he set the bottle on the table.

"So?" When he looked at her questioningly, she gestured with her hands. "What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?"

He seemed to hesitate before pasting a smirk on his face. "I jumped off of a building."

"What?" she gasped, retroactively frightened, though she was sure she hadn't known him at the time.

"It was my first case. I was working with Mac, actually," he told her. "The guy we were after accidentally backed off a roof and I just…jumped."

Reaching behind her, she threw the decorative pillow at him. "Are you crazy?"

"Did I not say it was stupid?" he asked, raising an arm to protect himself from another blow. "There was another roof about fifteen feet down. I wound up with some bruises, and Mac lecturing me for an hour."

"That's the stupidest thing you've ever done?" Lindsay asked, doubtful.

He sent her a humorless grin. "No, but it's the only story you're gonna get tonight."

"That's not fair," she muttered, hurt.

His expression didn't change. "I think I've had too much to drink. I should go."

Blinking at the sudden downshift, Lindsay froze on her end of the couch before hopping up. "Okay."

"Work in the morning," he said absently, picking up his wine glass and putting it down again.

"Right. Of course." She cleared her throat and followed him to the door. "Dinner was delicious. Thank you again. Oh, wait."

Danny paused, hand reaching for the doorknob as she hurried back into the kitchen. Grabbing one of the tins, she returned to his side and held it out to him. "Have some muffins."

The tension snapped with an almost physical force as he abruptly grinned. His change of demeanor encouraged her enough to rise on her toes and kiss his cheek, despite the awkwardness of his exit. He smiled down at her as she stepped away, then opened the door and slipped through.

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Devilla: Lindsay felt awkward because of Connor's message, so she was acting stiff. If you look at the conversation, Danny's actually quite comfortable on his end, if a little less talkative than usual, which could probably be explained by the fact that he's surrounded by people. D/L action soon. Story's almost over. :p

Tenley: Connor is making some interesting choices, I admit. Oh god, I would never write Millie with a boyfriend. Unless it was a horror fic. Hehe.

serenity2bliss: I think Lindsay and Freddy are both pretty relieved to have her out of there at this point, as much as they love each other. I think it's going to save their relationship. Lindsay is, quite possibly, Freddy's favorite person in the whole world, which I think is kinda sweet. : )

RachelHeidi: These two seem to have some sort of hyper-aware sixth sense just for each other. And right now it's totally driving them crazy. Danny's a little freaked out at the thought of touching Lindsay after Freddy's touching little display after the dinner party. I think he's going to wait for the doctor's "OK."

ReJo: I do enjoy the fact that everyone seems to either love or hate Freddy. There's no in-between feelings for him. Which is awesome considering he's supposed to be such an intense character. And things will definitely be moving forward now. But damn you Connor!

scoj: I'm so glad you feel like you can get into the story. I love to hear that people are enjoying the piece! Thanks for reviewing!

Marue61: Ask and ye shall receive (within reason): a piece from Danny's perspective coming up in the next chapter! Danny's definitely not perfect, so I hope he hasn't been coming off that way. I think they've been having enough problems to highlight that they're both far from perfect, even with each other.

The Little Corinthian: Seriously. How could they have not paired them together? How can they leave us hanging like this?? Eek. I hope you get some down time soon. Sounds like real life is getting in your way as much as mine. Damn you technology!

berta101: I think Freddy views Lindsay as half-sister and half-daughter, so their relationship is convoluted to the extreme. Yes, he does go too far sometimes. The tension you were sensing is mostly on Lindsay's side during that phone conversation. She feels guilty that she couldn't tell Danny about Connor and it made her hypersensitive to his tone. Connor…is complicated. He's not as much of a wuss as he seems right now, which will hopefully come out later. And he treated Lindsay really well, which is a plus in my book. :p

qt4good: You're right, the call will be a problem, but not because Lindsay hides it. And it won't really be a problem until the next fic. And Connor still has major feelings. He's totally in love with her. Awkward.

Leena7: I'm sorry you feel I've been drawing it out too much. Actually, I've sped up the recovery time quite a bit. In reality, Lindsay would need at least two or three more months to be up to the level she is. But, if it makes you feel better, the story's almost over. Just a few more chapters now!


	18. Chapter 18

A.N. I thought I could finish this in just one more chapter after this one, but it's going to be a bit longer. Sorry this chapter took so long. For some reason it was a real bugger to fit the pieces together.

Also, I apologize for the lack of editing this chapter got. Let me know if there are glaring errors or other awkwardnesses.

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It was as if someone had turned the volume off on the world. Where the sound of Shelby's breathing had been, there was suddenly nothing. Lindsay could see her friend, but she couldn't make her muscles move to touch Shelby when she dropped her arms away.

The man pointing the gun was faceless, hiding in the darkness of his hoodie, starkly black against the endless whiteness around them. Next to her, Shelby stiffened, but when Lindsay turned to look it was Danny.

And he was yelling, but she couldn't hear him in the muted white room. It was as if the world had disappeared when she wasn't paying attention. She stared at Danny as he yelled again and again until she realized he was repeating one word.

Run.

Horrified, she looked back at the figure, a gray splotch in the whiteness. His movements were slow, like he was moving through molasses. Painfully slowly, she watched the gun tremble as he cocked the safety. Then his fingers tightened on the trigger and she knew what would happen. Always the same.

The man would pull the trigger, Danny would jerk, blood spreading over his chest, staining his shirt, white against the brilliant red. And she could never move, just watch as Danny fell to the ground, his too-blue eyes finding hers, wide with shock.

She could never move.

For the first time, she felt angry. Really, truly, adrenaline-pumping angry.

Of course she could move. Fear didn't paralyze you unless you let it; unless you were weak. She'd saved Jen. She wasn't weak. Who was going to decide she couldn't save Danny?

With the strength of that thought, she threw herself at Danny just as the world unfroze and she heard the bang of the shot. As he landed, the air rushed out of him in an audible whoosh that she heard above the high-pitched whine of the bullet racing towards her.

She didn't feel it, but for a moment, she could see the bullet coming at her, could plot its path.

Detached, she knew it would enter her heart at exactly its center, not mid-chest, but slightly off to the side. And, in that moment, she realized that the bullet was always intended for her.

Then time sped up again and she sat up in bed with a scream of pain. The remembered agony of the dream bullet piercing her skin warred with the fire in her stomach.

After a few terrified moments, she reached over and fumbled with the lamp switch. Finally, light flooded the room and she let out a sob of relief. Holding shaking hands over her face, she tried to force her breath in and out evenly.

The dreams were always worse, more vivid, right after seeing Danny. But she hadn't seen or spoken to him in several days, and a sense of betrayal filled her. Her mind was fighting her with those images of the man, the man killing Danny.

Her breath hitched as she calmed a bit from her shock. Frowning, she dropped her hands and ran through what she remembered from the dream. The memories were never specific and faded quickly, but the snapshots were still there. He hadn't died. She'd saved him.

Raising her knees to press into her chest, she let out a short, bitter laugh. A few months ago, before the shooting, she would have welcomed the dream. It would have been the one reminder she needed to prove to herself that allowing herself to love Danny wasn't the crisis situation she sometimes imagined; she wasn't as helpless as she thought. The problem was she no longer needed it.

Life never quite happened in the order you wanted it to.

Her fingers itched to pick up the phone, to hear his voice, but she couldn't force herself to do it. He'd been so stressed with the Simons case, and she knew from Jen that he hadn't been sleeping. Except, apparently, at his desk in their office.

No, she couldn't bother him right now. She'd told him she needed to handle this on her own and she would. It was just going to be a long night.

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The ringing of the phone greeted Lindsay as she pushed open the door. Carefully setting her package down, she hurried to the phone and stripped a glove off with her teeth. Spitting it onto the floor, she snatched up the receiver.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes at the amusement in Danny's voice. "Yeah, me getting my mail. What's up?"

"We solved the Simons case."

"Danny, that's fantastic. Who did it? How'd you figure it out?"

He laughed, the exhaustion coming loud and clear through the phone. But he sounded so relieved that she tried not to worry. "One at a time, Lindsay. Who? The janitor at the school where he teaches. How? He cracked when we questioned him a second time."

"The janitor?" Lindsay repeated, pulling off her other glove and retrieving the first from the floor. "Well, at least now you know why the apartment was so clean. But why did he do it?"

Danny sighed. "Hate crime. Mr. Clean has a real beef with gay men. Apparently, our vic was quite open about being gay and when he had his boyfriend come into school to talk to the kids, the janitor flipped."

"How did you know to bring him in?"

"We didn't," he told her. "Honestly, we were just bringing in anyone we'd already spoken to who had an established relationship with the vic."

She heard him take a deep breath as she picked up the package and took it to her dining table. "But it worked."

"It wasn't detective work, Lindsay, it was pure luck."

"But it worked," she repeated firmly. "You got the guy. That's all that matters in the end."

"Yeah," he murmured, like he was trying to remind himself. "So what have you been up to the last few days?"

Unwinding her scarf from around her neck, she let out a snicker. "Well, I rearranged my furniture—"

"Uh, should you be doing that?" he asked worriedly. "Furniture is kind of heavy."

"And reordered all of my books so they're alphabetical by author. I've been jogging up my stairs. I usually only make it about halfway. Today was exciting, though. I fought with the postman because, apparently, I had a package yesterday. But did he ring the buzzer to tell me? No. He just left a little Attempted Delivery slip in my mailbox. So, I tried to get him to bring the package back, assuring him that I would be home. Like I was yesterday."

She heard Danny stifling laughter on the other end. "And did he bring it back?"

"No," she grumbled. "I spent most of today standing in line at the post office fifteen blocks away with my stupid yellow slip."

"So what's in the package then?"

"I don't know." Cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder, she managed to finish taking off her jacket. "It's from my mom. She wouldn't tell me what it was."

"Maybe it's her orange shortbread," he said hopefully.

Lindsay snickered. "Not likely. Besides, who said I would share?"

"Now, Montana. I made you dinner."

"Messer, I gave you muffins."

"Those were really good, by the way."

"Thanks. Wait, were?" Lindsay pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it before putting it back. "I gave you, like, fifty muffins."

"Like I said, they were good."

She laughed and moved into her kitchen. "I'm glad you liked them."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

In the middle of opening her cabinet, she paused, her hand stretched towards the tea kettle. "I had some big laundry plans, but that's about it. Why?"

"Mac told me to take the day, get some sleep. But I figure I'll sleep, what, ten hours at most?"

She grinned and wrapped her fingers around the kettle's handle. "Would you like to join me?"

"That depends," he said seriously. "You adding softener?"

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"Hello?"

He couldn't tell through the static of the intercom, but he thought she sounded strange. "Lindsay, it's Danny."

She didn't say another word, but the loud buzz indicated she'd unlocked the door for him. Shrugging against the uneasy feeling that crawled up his spine, he forced himself to press the button for the elevator instead of immediately taking to the stairs. But the feeling wouldn't be culled and by the time the elevator reached the bottom floor, he was somewhere between the fifth and the sixth.

She looked shell shocked as she answered the door, her eyes wide and empty. Danny froze at the look there, panic sweeping through him as she turned to head back into the apartment without a word. He stepped inside, panting, and locked all of the locks behind him, as though that could keep out whatever was wrong.

He turned and moved into the living room, finding her frozen in the center of the room. She stood for a moment, hovering over a box she had laid on the floor. He carefully unwound his scarf and laid it over the back of the couch.

"Is that the box from your mom?"

Kneeling to dig through the box at her feet, Lindsay began pulling out frames. They were too thin to be photograph frames, almost like cardboard and Danny tilted his head to the side, coming closer for a better look.

Sketches. Matted sketches.

Picking one up, he studied the group of friends. The girl in the middle, obviously Lindsay though she was much younger, grinned carelessly out of the picture. It was a look Danny had never seen on her face; it was too innocent for the Lindsay he knew.

"Toni gave them to us back in high school," Lindsay explained, holding one in each hand. "Shelby's are here, too. Her mom must have…"

Danny felt lost as he watched her bite her lip and trail off. She liked to think she needed to put it behind her, but these girls would always be a part of her, and he didn't know how comfortable she was with that fact yet. So he waited to see what her next move would be.

Apparently she was more comfortable than he'd thought since she turned determined eyes to his. "Will you help me do something?" she asked quickly.

The sudden thread of urgency in her voice had his eyebrows rising. "What?"

"I need to hang them on the walls."

More shocked than he should have been, he let his eyes rove over her face. Finally, he nodded. "Sure," he murmured. "I can do that."

The relief behind her eyes confused him. Had she expected him to refuse her?

He gently took some of the frames out of her hands and she glanced around the room feverishly. "Do you have nails?" he asked softly.

"Don't need them. Double stick tape is fine. They're really light." She reached into the box again and pulled out a roll. "My mom sent some," she whispered.

Taking the roll out of her hands, he started putting small squares on the corners of all the frames. She picked each one up as he finished, hanging them on empty spaces on the walls that he only realized later were chosen to keep the fragile sketches away from direct sunlight.

When they finished, she sank down onto the floor again and stared. Sinking down next to her, Danny waited a beat then slid his arm around her shoulders. Wordlessly, she leaned into him, eyes still locked on the drawings.

He remembered expecting that she would have snapshots on her walls the first time he'd been inside. He'd been surprised to find just two or three art prints, nothing personal at all. Staring at the walls around them, he felt a small knot of worry he'd been carrying since the trial relax deep inside.

When Lindsay finally stirred against him, his legs had long since fallen asleep. He couldn't imagine how uncomfortable her position must have been. "I made shortbread," she murmured.

"What?" he asked quietly, leaning his head down to look at her.

"Shortbread," she repeated, her voice gaining in strength as she pulled away from him to stand. "My mother's recipe."

Confusion furrowed his brow as she moved into the kitchen. "When?"

"Last night." Finally realizing he hadn't followed her, she whirled to find him on the floor. "You said you liked it," she pointed out, lifting the lid on the tin.

A slow smile spread across his face as he pushed himself into a standing position. Sauntering across the room, he practically pressed himself against her back as he leaned over her and stole a cookie out of the tin. His eyes were locked on her face as she turned her head to look up at him.

The dilated pupils and parted lips had his entire body clenching with need. But now wasn't the time, as her uncle had so generously pointed out to him. Touching her right now was a giant no-no.

Unfortunately, his body wasn't listening and he hurriedly stuffed the cookie in his mouth before practically running for the living room. "Do you want any milk?" Lindsay called after him, starting to scurry around her small kitchen.

"Sure," he answered, staring at the movies on her shelf and ignoring the way his voice had dropped an octave.

Eventually, he heard her moving to the couch and he pulled a random box off the shelf. Turning, he found her setting two glasses of milk on the table along with a plate of cookies and he froze in place. He was pretty sure that the only woman to serve him milk aside from his mother had been the lunch lady in elementary school.

Shaking it off, he studied her face, so stoic, and moved to sit beside her. "Tell me about them," he murmured.

Stirring faintly, she looked up at him with a bit of shock and something else, something deeper, that had his body picking up right where it left off mere minutes before. Her breath caught as he swayed towards her, and the sound had him retreating quickly. But they both breathed a little heavier into the silence.

"Shelby and I used to go skinny dipping up at the lake. One day, Connor found us there. Shelby just laughed but I was never able to do it again."

The idea of naked Lindsay made his hand clench around the movie he still held. He hastily tossed the box on the coffee table and glanced at her. She hadn't noticed.

"Toni took her sketchbook everywhere. She drew everything; people, landscapes, stuff she made up. Her hands were just never still. These took her maybe ten minutes to do."

Surprised, Danny's eyes flew back to the detailed pictures, to the careful shadowing of Lindsay's cheekbones. Ten minutes?

"She wanted to be a graphic novelist."

"Really?"

Lindsay laughed a little. "She was such a tomboy. She wore a tux to prom."

"What'd you wear to prom?" Danny asked, low and a little too interested.

"A dress," she told him, laughter in her voice.

"Mean," he murmured, as she let her smile spread.

Her eyes took on a teasing light. "Let me guess, your shirt had ruffles."

He shook with silent laughter. "I'll have you know it was silk, like any good Guido."

"What in the world is a guido?" Her eyes locked on his face with a skeptical expression, as though she thought he was making it up.

His eyebrows slowly rose as he waited to see if she was joking. She wasn't. "A young Italian American man who wears bad jewelry."

"Bad jewelry, huh?"

"Gold chains," he admitted ruefully.

A soft smile on her face, she reached out a finger and hooked it under the silver chain hiding beneath his shirt. Tugging on it, she examined the plain cross before carefully laying it back against his shirt.

"You've definitely improved," she told him seriously.

He smirked at her, hiding his reaction to the brush of her fingers against his neck. "It's hard to do worse," he pointed out.

"We all make mistakes. I used to straighten my hair," she countered wryly.

His eyes left hers to rest on the soft curls. "I remember. Why?"

Thoughtlessly, he ran his fingers through a curl, watching it bounce back into shape. A little hum of pleasure escaped her and his eyes flew to hers. She looked as surprised as he felt, her eyes wide with embarrassment.

Finally, as his mouth curled into a smirk, she dropped her gaze and cleared her throat. "It's the humidity that makes it curly. In Montana, it was just a wavy mess. I straightened it because it was easier to manage."

His mind raced with responses. Thank God you moved to New York. It was curly when I was in Montana. Curly haired women are hotter.

"I like it this way," he said simply.

And she blushed.

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"Doctor, I was just wondering." Lindsay swallowed, her fingers clenching around the edge of the exam table.

He raised his eyes from her chart, his expression concerned. "Yes?"

"You said that I couldn't…have sex." There she stopped, unable to ask the question directly.

The doctor hesitated, setting her chart aside completely. "I would wait a few more weeks before engaging in any sort of sexual activity. Particularly if you're going back to work so soon."

"So soon? It's been almost four months," Lindsay pointed out.

"After abdominal surgery, the body takes a long time to heal itself, Lindsay. Especially with the amount of trauma you sustained. Adding work into the mix, your muscles are going to be overly tired, just from standing for eight hours."

She squirmed uncomfortably. "So no sex."

"No."

"That's your final word?" Lindsay asked glumly.

Dr. Weston stifled a laugh and picked up her chart. "Just a few more weeks."

Lindsay's eyes narrowed. "How many?"

Surprised, the doctor's eyebrows lifted before he controlled his reaction. "At least, two. Just to give your body time to acclimate."

Nodding with a tight smile, Lindsay slid off the table. "Thank you, Dr. Weston."

"How's the pain?" he asked as she straightened her clothing.

"It's almost completely gone. Sometimes at night…but not very often," she told him with a casual shrug.

"Good. That's good." Giving her a wide smile, he handed her a prescription.

She eyed it suspiciously. "Then what's this for?"

Jotting a note down in her chart, Dr. Weston glanced at her. "Oh, it's just a precaution really. Most patients experience sporadic pain for up to a year after the surgery. That's barely stronger than asprin, it just works faster," he added absently, already looking back down at the chart.

A year? Sighing, Lindsay thanked the doctor and headed from the room. No sex for two more weeks and pain for a year. Wonderful.

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Bent over the group of knives on the table, a noise alerted Danny to someone walking in the room. "Hey, Mac," Danny said, glancing over his shoulder. "What's up?"

"Just checking in. How are things going?"

"Great. Just dusting my seventh knife here." He smirked up at his boss as he twirled the fingerprint powder over the handle.

Mac smiled back and leaned his hands on the table. They were both silent for a moment, Danny beginning to get that foreboding feeling in his gut that he didn't like, when Mac cleared his throat. "How's Lindsay doing?"

Danny paused and glanced up again with a frown. "Come again?"

Mac looked vaguely bothered by the conversation, but he plowed ahead. "Lindsay wants to come back to work."

Looking around to make sure the lab was empty, Danny dropped his eyes back to the knife. "I know. She told me."

"You think she's ready?

Hesitating, Danny lifted a print before speaking. "Why don't you ask her doctor?"

"I did," Mac muttered. "He said she was good to go."

Lindsay was healthy. A knot formed in Danny's stomach at the concept. He'd seen it as something that would happen in the future, always seeming light years away. The nerves that exploded in his stomach and his shaking hand did not bode well for Lindsay's return to work. Suddenly, Mac's real meaning sunk in, interrupting Danny's graphic thoughts.

"Then why are you asking me?" he questioned, surprised.

Mac looked at him seriously. "I'm not asking for a medical opinion."

Stilling, Danny searched Mac's face for a long moment. Finally, he set the brush down and braced his fists on the table. "She wants to come back, Mac."

"I know."

"I can't tell you more than that," Danny said carefully.

Mac met his gaze, eyes calculating Danny's rigid body language. "You're right." Nodding nervously, Danny picked up the brush again. Mac waited then sighed. "Let me know what you find."

"Always," Danny mumbled, distinctly uncomfortable.

As soon as the door swung shut behind Mac, Danny paused, looking up to watch his boss walk away. He fiddled with the brush, debating whether or not he should call Lindsay and tell her about the conversation.

She'd probably want to know, but then he'd have to admit he hadn't given Mac an unconditional yes. Rubbing the back of his hand over his forehead, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to return to his fingerprinting.

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Striding down the familiar hallway, Lindsay tried not to pay attention to the people staring. Because everyone was staring. She wondered briefly if any of the team was around, but her mind was too focused on getting to Mac's office to really concentrate on the thought.

After an eternity of glass walls and staring eyes, she was standing outside the door and knocking. Mac waved her in from his seat behind the desk and motioned for her to take the seat across from him.

Sitting stiffly, she watched him as his eyes ran over her. Instinctively, she felt the urge to try and relax her muscles but refrained. He'd notice and assume it meant more than it did. Instead she sat still and hoped he correctly labeled her rigidity as nerves.

"Lab work," Mac said abruptly. Lindsay raised an eyebrow at the strange remark. "Until I'm sure you're okay for the field."

Desperately trying to remain cool despite the giddy excitement, she nodded. "When do I start?"

Finally, Mac smiled. "How's next Monday?"

"How's tomorrow?" she countered.

Mac laughed a little, reaching up to scratch his eyebrow. "Monday. It's the start of the new schedule."

Lindsay sighed. "Oh all right." Then she allowed herself to relax and smiled back. "Thanks, Mac."

"Don't thank me yet," he warned, pointing at her. "You seem overworked and I'm kicking you out again."

"Got it."

"I'll see you on Monday."

She grinned at him and stood, trying not to lean on the chair arm as she stood. It was a habit she'd picked up while she needed to and now it was stuck. Mac's eyes locked on her and she resisted the urge to sigh deeply. Turning with a small smile, she looked out Mac's office to find Stella outside the window.

Smile widening, Lindsay pulled open Mac's door and stepped into Stella's arms. Stella, always a bear-hugger, held her tightly for a long minute before pulling away.

"You're coming back?" she asked, still holding Lindsay's shoulders.

"Monday," Lindsay told her, nodding.

Stella squeezed her shoulders then let go. "That's great. I have trace, but what are you doing on Saturday?"

"Nothing," Lindsay said with a light laugh.

"Lunch?" Stella asked, glancing over her shoulder as Adam's voice rang down the hall.

"Sure. Call me."

Stella grabbed her for another hug then gave a small wave and hurried away. Sighing, Lindsay watched her for a moment, jealousy rising in her throat. But she'd be back on Monday, so she just needed to distract herself for the next few days.

Making her way back to the elevator, she pulled out her phone and dialed Jen's number, hoping she was somewhere in the precinct. Just before it went to voicemail, Jen picked up.

"Angell."

"Hey, are you at work?"

"Sort of," Jen said, having to shout over the sounds of construction. "I'm out at a scene. What's up?"

Quelling another sigh, Lindsay shook her head though Jen couldn't see her. "Nothing, I'm just in the building so I thought I'd say hi."

"What?"

"I said—"

"No, no. I heard you," Jen shouted. "Why are you in the building? Are you—" Suddenly, she gasped. "Are you back at work?"

"Monday," Lindsay told her, smiling as she joined the group waiting for the elevators.

"Wait, I didn't hear that."

"Monday." Lindsay winced as the people around her jumped at her raised voice. "Sorry," she murmured, trying to smile at everyone.

Jen let out a whoop of excitement and Lindsay smiled. "I'll let you get back to work," Lindsay told her as the doors slid open. "I just wanted to see if you were around."

"All right, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Great. Bye."

"Bye."

Flipping the phone closed, she rubbed her temple and hoped that everyone wasn't still staring at her. Unfortunately, they were. She squirmed throughout the ride to the lobby, and it wasn't until she was striding down the sidewalk again that she realized she hadn't called Danny.

Biting her lip, she pulled the phone out again in the middle of the sidewalk and pressed his speed dial. As it rang, she pushed herself through the crowd to the building so she was out of the way of foot traffic. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she tried not to brush against the wall.

"Messer."

"Hey. How's it going?"

"Good. You?"

She heard the same construction noises in the background and wanted to hit her head against the wall behind her. Only fear of disease restrained her. "I'm okay. I just spoke to Mac, actually."

"You did, huh?"

The tension in his voice told her that he must have heard Jen's end of the conversation. He knew she'd called Jen first and asked to stop by. He was probably wondering why she hadn't called him immediately afterward.

To cover her paranoid panicking, she spoke quickly. "He said I could come back on Monday."

"Lab work?" he asked carefully. He sounded like he was bracing himself for something.

"Danny, at this point, I would file his cases for him quite happily," she said dryly.

He laughed tightly and she frowned at the phone. Before that moment he hadn't seemed upset, just…neutral. Now she wondered why he sounded nervous. "You okay?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But…uh…I just finished processing a scene. I need to head back to the lab." He stuttered to a stop and paused. "Are you still there?"

Glancing up at the building behind her, she shook her head. "Nope," she lied.

"Oh, okay. Then…I guess I'll talk to you later?"

Feeling exasperated, Lindsay nodded brusquely. "All right. Bye, Danny." He barely got his goodbye out before the click told her he'd ended the call.

He was acting markedly odd. First disappointed she was coming back, then disappointed she wasn't there right at that very moment. What the hell was she supposed to think?

A wave of irritation at him swept her down the stairs to the subway and kept her warm all the way home.

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"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Jen asked as they walked through the precinct's front door.

"Not sure yet," Lindsay mumbled, keeping her eyes focused on the door she knew would lead to the elevators. She felt the eyes sharp on the sides of her face and back.

"Freddy?"

Lindsay let her eyes sweep to the side to glance at Jen's face but didn't move her head. He'd gone out to get drinks with them the night before and Lindsay was starting to suspect Jen had a bit of a crush on her uncle. It was disturbing.

"Freddy's not really big on major holidays."

Jen pushed the door open for her and waited until Lindsay was through before following. "Why's that?"

"Well, he kind of rejects civilization in general," Lindsay told her then paused as they reached the elevator. "At least, he used to."

Jen nodded and completely switched topics. "You want me to come up with you?"

Tempted, Lindsay had to force herself to smile calmly. "I'll be fine, Jen."

Jen's worried eyes darted over Lindsay's face, obviously unconvinced. "All right. Call me when you get a lunch break."

The doors slid open and Lindsay stepped inside. Jen was watching her with an anxious expression as she disappeared from view. Lindsay fiddled with her watch as the elevator rose and nearly jumped out of her skin when it stopped a few floors up to let in passengers. They weren't people she knew and barely acknowledged her, much to her relief.

When the elevator finally opened on the 35th floor, she practically sprinted into the hallway. A smile curved her lips upwards as she spotted Danny leaning against a nearby wall. Seeing her, he straightened.

"Morning," he called as her legs began working again and she moved towards him.

"Morning. Fancy meeting you here."

He grinned down at her as she stepped up to him. "Where you headed?"

"Mac's office."

"What a coincidence, I was just heading there myself" he said, gesturing with his thumb.

"Coincidence, huh?" she murmured as he started down the hall.

"Lindsay!"

Glancing behind her, she saw Hawkes jogging up to them. "Hey," she said as she stopped and let him hug her briefly. "How's it going? 

"Great. Welcome back," he told her. "You coming to the meeting?"

"Meeting?" she asked, glancing between the two of them.

"Mac has news," Danny explained with a shrug. "No idea what."

Lindsay could feel her forehead furrowing in concern. "Huh."

She bit her lip as Hawkes and Danny began chatting about a case they had apparently been working on the week before. Mac didn't generally call meetings, preferring to conversationally tackle each CSI one at a time. Something big was up if he was calling a meeting.

Stepping in Mac's office, she returned Stella's warm smile and settled herself against the wall next to Danny. He glanced down at her and grinned as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Morning everyone," Mac said from behind his desk. "As I'm sure you've noticed, Lindsay's back. But she'll be restricted to lab work until I'm completely sure she's fit for the field."

Everyone nodded because he seemed to need a response. Then Mac handed Stella a folder. "Stella, Danny, you've got a murder in a SoHo apartment. Hawkes, you're with me. Lindsay, I'm going to have you start processing Stella and Danny's evidence. Hawkes and I are going to take quite a bit longer."

She nodded again, her eyes darting to Hawkes who suddenly looked a bit suspicious. Next to her, Danny stifled a chuckle and straightened from the wall. Briskly cross the room, Stella handed Danny her folder and he flipped it open as they headed for the door. Trying to tamp down on her jealousy, Lindsay followed, readying herself for a long wait before the evidence started coming in.

"Before everyone heads out," Mac said, stopping the others in their tracks. Glancing back at him, they all turned back and waited. "The department heads and the mayor would like me to make an announcement."

Lindsay exchanged a confused glance with Danny. The mayor rarely made announcements to CSIs, and Mac was looking a little too stoic for it to be a good one.

"The mayor has invited us to a small function and medal ceremony in honor of Detective Lindsay Monroe and her valor in the line of duty."

Frozen, Lindsay stared at Mac for a few moments in silence. The rest of the team was watching her for a reaction but she didn't notice their proud gazes.

"I don't want a medal," she told Mac. "Tell them thank you, but no."

Mac's face became even more neutral than usual, a feat she'd previously thought impossible. "You can't turn it down, Lindsay."

"Why not?" she asked, crossing her arms over her stomach. She knew she looked like a petulant child, but she couldn't help it; she didn't want this.

"What's so bad about a medal?" Stella broke in. "What you did was heroic."

"No, it wasn't," Lindsay snapped, exasperated. "It's what anyone would've done. Getting a medal for it would be like getting a medal for breathing."

Everyone in the room watched her, waiting to see if she'd explode again. Instead, she shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, suddenly exhausted. A hand resting on her shoulder made her look up again. Stella smiled slightly down at her.

"Not everybody would have done it, Lindsay Monroe." Pressing her lips to Lindsay's forehead gently, Stella smiled at her one more time and patted her cheek.

"All right," she said, turning around. "Show's over. Danny, let's get moving."

Hawkes tactfully followed the other two out of the room, despite sharing Mac's case. Lindsay watched him go with desperate eyes.

"When?" she asked quietly.

"Next month, after you're officially back in the field." At her despairing look, Mac's face gentled. "I tried to put them off, Lindsay, but you know how they are about good publicity."

Wincing, she looked away. "I don't want this, Mac."

"Neither do most people who deserve it," he pointed out, picking up the folder Hawkes had accidentally left behind. "It'll be pretty painless, Lindsay. Just a few reporters and the mayor handing you a medal."

"I have to wear my dress blues, right?"

He eyed her sardonic expression. "Yes."

"It'll be painful," she told him, then turned and walked out the door.

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"What can I do for you guys?" Lindsay asked as Stella and Danny crowded around her table a few hours later.

Danny blew out a frustrated breath. "We're at a dead end here, Montana. Tell me you got something."

Wincing sympathetically, Lindsay leaned against the table. "I've been over everything you guys brought back but I'm not seeing anything that can help you. Most of the fingerprints you gave me to run lead back to the vic, and there's almost no trace."

Stella gripped her hands together. "The only person who even claims to have seen Evans recently was her boyfriend. And he was out of town until this morning."

Lindsay looked at her sharply. "He said he was out of town?"

"For three days," Stella affirmed, looking at her oddly. "He left Friday and got back this morning. He's got alibis with two people."

"He said he'd been out of town for three days prior to the murder?"

Stella nodded and Lindsay frowned. Sliding past Danny, she sifted through the crime scene photos for the one she remembered. "Did you get prints off this glass?" she asked, pointing to it on the coffee table.

"Yeah," he said, looking at her questioningly but glancing through the file of prints. "Here we go. Yeah. All the boyfriend's. Perfect set."

"Danny, look at this glass," she said, scooting up next to him so he could see the picture.

He adjusted his glasses and leaned down to look more closely. "What about it?"

"Look at the condensation." Her voice was excited as she tipped her face back to look at him just above her shoulder. "That water had to have been ice cold the morning of the investigation."

"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes going back to the glass. "Otherwise the water would've reached room temperature by the time we got there."

"And no condensation on the glass."

Setting a hand on the reconstruction table, he leaned his weight on it. His chest brushed her shoulder as he shifted and she suddenly noticed how very close he was.

"Could it have been planted?" she asked, feeling a tad incoherent as his warmth seeped through her clothes.

"Only if the killer wore gloves, which would've smudged at least some of the prints with the way Julian had to hold it." At Lindsay's questioning look, he gestured to his left hand. "He's got a mangled hand from an accident when he was a kid."

Trying not to stare at the muscles of Danny's forearm, Lindsay closed her eyes briefly, feigning concentration. "So he was there the night of the murder," Lindsay concluded.

"Must've been," Danny agreed.

"Now we just need to prove it," Stella told them.

Lindsay flushed guiltily and sidled away from Danny a couple of inches. Engrossed in the picture she held, Danny immediately leaned back into her to get a better view. Biting her lip, she glanced at Stella, but the other woman didn't seem to notice Lindsay's acute distraction.

"How we gonna do that? He's already got people lying for him," Danny muttered, finally glancing away from the picture and easing back out of her personal space.

If she thought him moving would make her breathe more freely, she was wrong. "We prove they're lying," she said, her voice coming out as a whimper.

Both Stella and Danny stared at her worriedly. "You okay?" Danny asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine," she said, shocked out of the mindless need for him. Though the hand on her shoulder didn't help matters. "Where did he say he was?"

"Buffalo, visiting his brother."

"And you spoke to his brother?" Lindsay muttered, already knowing they had.

"Yeah, this morning. Said Jackson got there around six on Friday and left yesterday morning around ten. Exact same story as Jackson," Stella told her, arms folded tightly.

Lindsay nodded. "Did anyone else see him leave yesterday morning?"

Eyes lighting up, Stella dropped her arms. "The maid."

"Maid?" Danny said blankly, leaning across Lindsay's back to pick up another photo. A shiver crept up her spine and she flushed when she felt Danny eye her as he straightened.

"Who else sees everyone come and go? Anthony Jackson is loaded. He's bound to have a maid or two up his sleeve. Let's see what time little brother actually left."

Danny gave Lindsay a half grin as he stripped his latex gloves and followed Stella out of the lab. "Let me know what you find out," Lindsay called after them, shaking her head in amusement.

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RachelHeidi: He said only two more weeks. Now it's just up to Danny and Lindsay. Let's see if they can get it together, eh? And if TPTB doesn't give us more than a two minute scene this week…grrrr. He'll find out about Connor, but that's all I'm telling! Hehe. Bunnies are evil. My friend had one when we were in middle school. She still has scars on her hands from that thing. She couldn't get me to go near it after the first time it attacked.

serenity2bliss: I don't think I can take credit for making the story sexy. Danny just brings the sexy wherever he goes, you know:-p I'm glad you're liking the chapters. Just a few more left and then resolution!

danaaa: Sorry there were only a couple moments of Danny perspective here. Don't worry; Connor's not deterred, despite the lack of response from Lindsay. He'll be back.

messermonroe: Soon now. Only a few more chapters left. Yes, I know, I've promised this before. But this time I mean it! Connor's not that bad is he:-p

Marue61: Lindsay isn't the wild oats sort, I don't think. She's too calm and solid, despite the mental breakdown she recently had. I think she's just a little too…square for that, as much as I love her. But that issue will be addressed, I promise and you'll get a little more insight into both of their frames of mind.

mercy4vr: The sexual tension is still going strong, though Danny's superhuman restraint is beginning to buckle. Heh. I'm evil for making him suffer.

ReJo: Freddy and Lindsay definitely needed space. They're way too much alike to live together and Freddy is not good at living with another person in general. Though it was valiant of him to try, I guess. :-p Yeah, Connor's got no shot when compared to Danny. For all that he looks like an Abercrombie and Fitch model.

scoj: Yeah, Lindsay is definitely sharing now. But it's interesting that Danny's holding back so much when he pushed her to share so much with him. Problem in the future maybe?

seren23: Hehe, I liked that line, too. And I agree about Lindsay's history with men. I'm not sure I'd call what she had a bad experience since she orchestrated it and doesn't seem to regret it. But I can also understand why she wouldn't sleep around very much after Connor. Especially not in such a small town where it would get back to him.

qt4good: Considering what Lindsay was sharing, I'm surprised Danny was so calm. But as I was writing it, I couldn't picture another reaction for him, especially with how open he is about his own sex life. Does that make sense? Besides, I think they both know they're going to jump each other's bones soon; it's just a matter of when.

chili-peppers: Connor can't mess things up. Lindsay is very sure of which guy she wants in this situation. But if Danny or Lindsay screws things up…I think Connor would definitely insert himself into the picture.

Tenley: Wasn't Freddy telling her to call Danny cute? I didn't plan for that to happen, it just typed itself and I was like "Hey…that's totally something Freddy would say." So I kept it. :-p I think Freddy really does trust Danny with Lindsay, he's just extremely overprotective. Extremely. I was surprised Lindsay told the story, too. Definitely not planned either. But it was the stupidest thing she's ever done and she told herself she'd never lie to Danny, so…(shrugs) I dunno.

Murgy31: He might have handled Connor well in Montana and at the hospital, but Danny is definitely a possessive/jealous man so problems might crop up if Connor keeps inserting himself in Lindsay's life. It's a good thing Lindsay's so sure who she wants. Take that, Connor! How do you like them apples?

TBD: I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Hopefully the next chapter will be up much faster than this one. Thanks for reviewing!

Devilla: I'm so loving Jen that I'm expanding her part in the story. Next subplot: Jen's love interest! Dun-dun-DUUUUUN!!!! Sigh. I love Jen. Probably because she's based on my own best friend. I find Flack hard to write, but I'll make a valiant effort to have a Danny/Flack moment.

Od: Hehe. Yes, they will hook up. But the doctor said two weeks and it's only been a few days. Patience, grasshopper. Seriously, though, there are only a few more chapters. I think three or four. So it won't be long now.

The Little Corinthian: Yes, I enjoy taunting you. I'm just evil that way. Apparently Danny doesn't need to call the doctor if Mac's doing it for him. Sometimes Mac seems just a little too involved in his team's lives. :-p But I love him. Man, here I thought I had dibs on Greg. I've been in love with him ever since that scene in season one where Warrick guesses Greg's listening to Radiohead on his walkman and it's actually a lecture on DNA splicing or something. I'm a sucker for nerds.

Kaoli: They will hook up. I swear! It's coming soon, too, since there's only, like, three or four more chapters left. And I promise it will be dramatic and angsty and fluffy. Hopefully that will make up for the lack of D/L in the last couple of episodes. You'd think, since they were working a case together, we'd get more than two minutes. Grumble.

Ashley Booth: Cooking Danny is totally hot. Guys cooking well in general, but Danny especially. Cooking Flack, up there but not overwhelming or anything. Danny is a special breed of reformed bad boy.

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A.N. The next chapter should be up in a few days. Almost done now, hang in there guys!


	19. Chapter 19

A.N. I tried to write a Flack/Danny scene and Flack just came off as goofy again. Why is he so hard for me to write?

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Freddy smiled at Lindsay wryly over the rim of his wine glass. Lindsay sent him a quelling look in return and glanced at Jen, who didn't seem to be paying them any attention at all. However, as if she felt Lindsay's eyes, Jen looked up and caught Lindsay staring.

Fork halfway to her mouth, Jen paused and raised her eyebrows questioningly. Lindsay shook her head and turned her attention back to the food. Jen shrugged and tried to fill the silence.

"Are you looking forward to the Galapagos trip, Freddy?"

Freddy picked up his fork again. "Of course."

Lindsay felt a bit of relief at the frustration in Jen's eyes. Freddy seemed to be losing his appeal for Jen. It hadn't helped that Freddy had been on his best behavior around Jen at all their previous meetings, no doubt sensing her early hostility. The fact that Jen was generally attracted to blonds, not dark and brooding types, seemed to have little or no impact on her crush.

Then Freddy smiled lazily into Jen's eyes as he reached for his wine glass again. Lindsay watched with resignation as Jen melted. Damn Freddy for looking like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.

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"Hey, Monroe!"

Glancing up as she closed the door to the lab vehicle, she saw Jen striding towards her from the house. "Hey," she called back, grinning into the sunlight.

Jen reached out and pushed Lindsay's shoulder gently. "Are you back in the field?"

Pulling a face, Lindsay sighed. "Unfortunately, no. Mac has temporarily lifted my exile since Stella had to call in sick, but tomorrow its back to the lab for me. I'm just meeting him to pick up the evidence from the last scene he and Danny processed."

"Stella's sick?" Jen asked as they started towards the house.

"Actually," Lindsay murmured, glancing around to make sure Mac hadn't arrived yet. "I think she had a date last night. And, apparently, it went well."

Jen lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head. "Really?"

The tension in Jen's voice made Lindsay want to sigh again. Jen was slowly becoming comfortable with the team now that Lindsay was back and it was clear there was no grudge. It helped that Danny had given up his banked hostility since Lindsay's safe return. But Jen still wasn't completely easy with Mac's team outside of work.

Just as Lindsay started to respond, the other vehicle pulled up and Mac started to climb out. Danny jumped out of the backseat and went around to the rear of the truck. Lindsay watched him as he disappeared to transfer evidence to her vehicle.

"Who's that?" Jen asked, gesturing with her chin at Adam, who'd climbed out of the truck with Mac. "He looks familiar."

"What? Oh, that's Adam, you've worked with him before. He's the lab guy Mac sometimes brings out."

"Oh, right. You told me about him," Jen murmured. Her head tilted to the side as she studied him. "Did he get a haircut or something? He looks different."

"Who we talkin' about?" Danny asked, appearing next to them.

"Adam," Lindsay told him, gesturing to where the man in question stood listening to Mac.

Danny frowned. "Why?"

"What's he doing out here?" Lindsay countered with a smile.

Shrugging to show he had no clue, Danny eyed Jen with a smirk. "You vibin' him?"

Jen rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I wanna do him against the car."

"He might be into that, actually," Danny said consideringly.

Exasperated, Jen stalked off. Lindsay tried to hide her smile, succeeding only marginally. "Nice. Real nice."

"What'd I say?" he asked innocently. She couldn't help but chuckle. "So, whaddya think? They gonna…"

She narrowed her eyes at him as he gestured crudely. "I guess that depends."

"On what?"

"Him," she said calmly, shrugging.

"So she is vibin him?" He sounded surprised.

"What's wrong with that?" Lindsay asked, pulling out the keys to the vehicle. "He's cute."

"He's a baby," Danny said disgustedly, crossing his arms over his chest and staring across the lot at Adam who was now setting up some sort of machine.

"He's older than I am," she protested, slightly offended.

"How cute?" Danny demanded turning back to her.

Her annoyance immediately dissipated. "Very cute," she murmured, just low enough that only he could hear. "Must be the facial hair. And the glasses."

"Adam doesn't wear glasses," Danny argued, looking confused.

"You don't say?" With a small smile, she turned and strode to the back of the truck.

It took him a moment, but then she saw him grin through the rear and side windows. She heard him take a breath like he was going to speak, but then he closed his mouth and shook his head.

"You wanna help me move this evidence?" Lindsay asked sweetly, peeking out from around the back of the truck.

He appeared at her side and pulled the back open for her, still smug. But he didn't gloat, so she let the smirk slide.

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Another week in the lab and she was no closer to getting back out in the field. Sighing silently, Lindsay straightened and resisted the urge to rub at her shoulders.

"I've gotta go," she said, stripping off her gloves. Both Hawkes and Danny looked up from the reconstruction table.

"Where you goin?" Danny asked, sounding disgruntled as he braced himself against the table, watching her.

"I'm meeting Jen for lunch." She glanced at her watch and sighed. "Five minutes ago."

Hawkes merely smiled at her and bent back over the evidence. "See you later."

"Oh, so you're leaving us with all of this?" Danny gestured at the pictures and clothes scattered across the table as if he was irritated.

Frowning, she slid her arms out of her lab coat. "No, I'll help you when I get back."

Something was definitely wrong with him today. "This is a case, Monroe. You can't just walk away when you want and come back to it."

Her eyes narrowed and she vaguely sensed Hawkes glancing between them nervously. "Correction. This is your case, Messer. I was helping you as a favor. And, yes, it's important. And yes, I will help you when I get back. But I'm also on three other cases right now. So you can bite me."

With that, she whirled, leaving him slack jawed and strode from the room. Muttering to herself, she turned a corner and spotted Jen waiting for her. Angell was staring through the glass wall into one of the labs. Confused by the intent stance, Lindsay eyed her as she stepped closer.

"What's up?" Lindsay asked.

"What's he doing?"

Glancing through the glass, Lindsay saw Adam bent over a row of test tubes, earbuds in his ears. "DNA, I assume."

"And he listens to his iPod?"

"Sure, why not? It's not like he has to talk to anybody."

Jen nodded but her eyes remained glued to Adam through the wall. Lindsay felt her lips curve up into a confused half-smile. "Unless, of courses, you want to talk to him."

Jen rolled her eyes. "We've barely spoken, Linds."

"Okay," she said, shrugging casually and filing the conversation away. "You ready for lunch?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Let me just grab my purse. I'll meet you at the elevators."

Once she was far enough away not to be distracted by Jen's interesting behavior, she remembered Danny. What was his problem? She rarely even took lunch, especially when he was the one asking for her help. The anger swept through her again and she banged her locker shut with more energy than strictly necessary.

Swinging her purse onto her shoulder, she automatically went back over the events of the morning, hoping there was something there to explain his irritation other than whimsy. Or, worse, her.

The only time she'd seen him was when he'd brought back the evidence. He'd seemed tired but he'd smiled at her as he asked for help so she'd assumed he was okay. Maybe she'd been wrong.

She caught up with Jen just as the elevator was opening and grinned. "What're you in the mood for, Angell?"

Jen smirked. "Anywhere but here."

"You all right?" Lindsay asked in surprise at the tone.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just a long week. And Thanksgiving's tomorrow. You're still coming right?" she pressed with exaggerated worry, as if she were afraid to confront her family alone.

Lindsay laughed and nodded. "Yes, I'm still coming. What time should I be there?"

A thought flitted across her mind, and she frowned, trying to chase it. But Jen spoke again, distracting her. "Two o'clock sounds about right. I'll send you an email with directions when we get back."

"Sounds good," Lindsay murmured. It was right there in the corner of her mind. Something about family. And Danny. And Thanksgiving. Oh God.

She gasped in the full elevator car, and Jen turned to her with real worry. "Linds? What's wrong?"

"Oh, I have to go. Back. I have to go back up," she babbled as the car came to a stop on the fifteenth floor. Before Jen could say anything, Lindsay stepped off the elevator and turned to wave. "I'm sorry. I'll call you later. Explain."

The doors shut as Jen opened her mouth to respond, the rest of the group in the elevator staring out in wonder. Immediately forgetting about them, Lindsay pressed the button for another car and waited impatiently.

By the time she made it back to the lab, she wasn't quite as frantic. But she wasn't surprised to find Danny standing stiffly on one side of the table, Hawkes silently working on the other.

She let out a nervous breath and then swung the door open. Their shocked expressions didn't faze her as she dropped her purse under the table and picked up her lab coat.

"Move over, Messer."

And he moved, still blinking at her. Hawkes wisely didn't say anything, merely returning his attention to the evidence in front of him. Stepping next to Danny, feeling the energy thrumming through him despite the stone-like stillness of his body, she was certain she'd been right. For once, he was the one who needed her.

As she moved behind him to pick up tools from the containers lined up next to him, she slid a hand over his back, feeling the muscles tense even more then relax. He let out an audible breath and she bit her lip, returning to the evidence.

Another holiday without Louie and she hadn't even thought about it.

"Hey, guys?"

Lindsay looked up, stiff from being bent in the same position for over an hour. "What's up?" Danny asked from her side.

"I found a hair," Hawkes told them, carefully lifting it for them to see. "And I think it has a tag."

A small grin spread over Danny's face. "That's what I'm talking about," he muttered, meeting Hawkes's eyes in silent shared triumph.

Slipping the fragile strand into its evidence bag, Hawkes picked up a manilla envelope and quickly wrote on the side. "I'll take this down to DNA."

Lindsay and Danny nodded, her stomach flipping as she watched the other man leave. When the door swung shut behind him, she felt inexplicably trapped. She wanted to help Danny, but she wasn't sure how, and, consequently, she wasn't sure she wanted to be alone with him quite yet.

The silence built between them and she desperately tried to think of a way to break it. But her mind was like mush.

"Lindsay."

Jerking at the sound of his voice, she blinked rapidly up at him. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. About before," he said, seeming unable to look at her.

The red tinge to his cheeks made her heart melt and she wanted to hold him, kiss him. Instead, she shuffled a few inches closer; far enough away to still be work place acceptable, but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Me, too."

She felt him glance down at her but didn't look up from the shoe she was inspecting. Not even a speck of trace. "What do you have to be sorry about?" he asked, his voice warm and smooth now.

She shrugged and set the shoe down. "You were upset, and I left." Finally, she raised her eyes to his. "I shouldn't have done that."

His eyes went soft and a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips. He looked relaxed now and it was her turn to feel triumphant. He opened his mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it because he just smiled again and looked away.

"You missed lunch," he eventually said, beginning to pack away the evidence.

She mirrored his movements. "Yeah."

"Was Jen all right with that?"

Handing him the bagged shoes, she watched him carefully set them inside the box. "I'm going to her place tomorrow for Thanksgiving," she said.

Tapping the lid of the box in place, he nodded as if she'd answered his question. The light was gone from his eyes again. Swallowing, she cleared her throat nervously. "You could come." His head swiveled to face her. "I mean, if you want."

She met his gaze as he searched her eyes with his. His tense expression didn't change. "I'm going to my parents' place."

Stripping her gloves off, Lindsay tried to make her voice bright and cheerful since he obviously didn't want to share what was bothering him. "You know Jen's from Brooklyn, too? You guys must have practically been neighbors growing up. Did you know her?" She blinked. Had she actually just asked that?

Surprise flickered across Danny's face then he was laughing. "This ain't Montana, Lindsay. I didn't know all the people on my block growing up let alone in Brooklyn." She smiled wanly and shook her head with embarrassment. "Besides, she's a few years younger than I am," he added, picking up the evidence box.

"Well, have a happy Thanksgiving anyway," she said, her peppy tone an attempt to cover up her acute mortification over the bungled conversation.

He paused in adjusting the box's weight as he met her gaze. "Happy Thanksgiving, Montana," he murmured, smiling down into her eyes.

Lindsay watched him leave the lab and felt a goofy smile cross her face. And it suddenly hit her: she was going to have to make a move. Or she'd go insane. She was completely head over feet for the guy and wanted to give them a shot.

She knew she was ready; the only thing left to figure out was whether or not he was still interested. She knew that he had been, but it seemed like he'd toned down the flirting a bit since her return to the lab. Then again she could be over-analyzing or hypersensitive. She usually was when it came to Danny.

Somehow, she had to show him she was ready and see what he did with it.

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Over the next two weeks, she couldn't decide if he was the one who erected the wall between them or if she'd done it. However, she was fully willing to take the blame if she could just figure out a way to break through it.

She tried the usual tactics to get his attention, touching his arm when they were talking, his back when she walked past. Then she realized she'd been doing that for months.

So, she tried getting very close when they spoke, brushing against him, showing him that personal space wasn't an issue between them. But he didn't seem to notice, possibly because he'd been doing the same to her for almost two years. He probably thought he was still the one doing it.

She invited him over every time she was sure they both had the night off, but he would show up so often on his own that she doubted he was keeping track of who initiated their dinners or movie nights.

She knew the obvious solution was to ask him out. Yet, somehow, whenever she tried, the words came out all wrong. Once, while trying to ask him to dinner, she'd accidentally sparked a debate over which curry was better, Thai or Indian. Flack even appeared halfway into it and offered his own opinion on the subject.

The only way she could get through on invitation without embarrassing herself into silence was to joke about it, which just cemented its casual nature.

So, she took a step back and analyzed the situation, like any good scientist. She knew he was attracted to her, she'd witnessed the affect she had on him nearly every time they were together. It seemed inexplicable to her—Danny Messer, the man every woman wanted wanting her—but she wasn't about to argue with her good fortune. She just wasn't sure if he wanted more than that.

Though the fact that he hadn't made a move on her suggested that he didn't just want sex. Which was good, she reminded herself whenever she felt discouraged.

Really, it was.

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Danny glanced over his shoulder as he followed Mac down the hall and saw Lindsay bent over her microscope. His stomach tingled in memory of having her pressed against him.

Since Thanksgiving—or, as he liked to refer to it, the holiday from hell— she'd been a bit more flirtatious, more relaxed in general, and Danny was beginning to let himself hope again. Maybe someday soon she'd be ready to give a relationship a chance.

But not yet. He was giving her time to adjust back to being at work. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. She seemed ready to give him a shot, more flirtatious, touching him gently at any provocation. It was definitely encouraging.

The problem, the reason he hadn't been able to make a move, was that she'd been encouraging before. So, he figured he'd wait awhile, just to be sure. This time, he wanted it to work out right.

"So our vic was most likely shot out of jealousy," Mac said, drawing Danny's attention. Thinking about the case, Danny made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Why would someone do that?" Danny asked. "I mean, if you love her, why hurt her? Don't you just want her to be happy?"

Mac was quiet for a minute. "Some things just don't make sense, Danny."

"Yeah," Danny said with a scoff. "I'll never get that."

Mac chuckled and slapped Danny on the shoulder. "And you said it couldn't happen to you."

It took Danny several moments to place the reference, and Mac was already halfway down the hall when he did. Considering the violent blush he felt suffusing his face, Danny was glad Mac was gone.

Turning, he quickly headed in the opposite direction. He had fingerprints to run.

Passing by the labs again, he glanced inside to catch a glimpse of Lindsay's curly head. He smiled when he saw her frowning up at Hawkes with her usual intense concentration. That frown had broken many a suspect.

But as intimidating as she was on a daily basis, she was also the only woman he knew with a cookie jar. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile the two images.

Fighting the warmth that thought brought, he ran a hand over the back of his neck and moved towards the elevators. Maybe Flack wanted to grab a late lunch. Stepping inside the miraculously empty elevator, his mind busy with thoughts of Lindsay, Danny admitted to himself that despite all his excuses the problem was actually with him.

Lindsay had been very clear about her attraction to him. He would have to be an idiot not to recognize the signs of arousal whenever he got close enough to touch her. He knew she wanted him.

And with any other woman, that was fine. He could work with that, seducing them into a relationship despite his faults. And he could do that with Lindsay, but he didn't want to.

He needed more from her than just sexual release. Though just the thought of Lindsay lying under him made a light sweat break out on his forehead in the middle of the precinct. He smiled nervously as he passed Jen and another detective in the hall near the elevator banks. They were on fairly good terms now, but there was no way in hell he wanted her seeing what he was thinking at that moment.

Reining in his thoughts, he craned his neck in the search for Flack, relieved to find the other man at his desk. Flack spotted him and jerked his head in greeting, pointing at the phone attached to his ear. Danny nodded and leaned casually against the wall, left alone to his brooding for the time being.

He wanted Lindsay's nights, and thoughts of the things he wanted to do to her sometimes made it hard for him to sleep, but he also wanted her mornings. And the fear that desire brought paralyzed him. If Lindsay turned him down this time, he knew he couldn't ask her again. He couldn't just be her bed buddy. So all he could do was wait, give her time, and hope she knew that because, otherwise, things were going to get even messier than they already were.

Hanging his head and taking a deep breath, he tried to force the fear from his mind. Seeing Flack's jovial expression as he sauntered across the room, Danny tried to force his usual smirk onto his face. God he wanted a beer.

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Lindsay eyed Jen and Adam from around a corner as they waited for her in the break room. It could possibly be the worst idea she'd ever had, but they'd both agreed to do lunch, despite their days off, and she couldn't let all the effort she'd already expended be for nothing. Taking a deep breath, she pasted a harried expression on her face and jogged around the corner.

"Sorry guys," Lindsay said breathlessly, hurrying into the break room. "I can't make lunch. Mac just called a meeting about my case."

"Do I need to be there?" Adam asked, beginning to stand.

"No, just Danny and I. Why don't you two still go, though? The reservation's for three, but they won't mind."

Jen frowned. "Why don't we just reschedule?"

"Please go," Lindsay begged. "I feel awful for dragging you both down here for nothing."

Jen looked suspicious, but glanced at Adam and shrugged. "I could eat," she told him.

"Uh, sure," he said, his eyes shooting to the couch across the room.

"Good. Have fun. Tell me all about it," Lindsay called over her shoulder, already halfway out the door.

She rounded the corner as quickly as she could, nearly mowing Danny down. He caught her as she bounced off his chest. "Whoa. You all right?"

Taking his arm, she started dragging him down the hall. "Weren't we supposed to meet Mac?" she asked with a tense smile.

He let her drag him, eyeing her warily. "Yeah, but not for a while. He got held up at Hawkes's scene. I was just comin' to tell you."

Her eyes widened and she glanced through the glass walls of the labs to see Jen and Adam standing at the elevators. Not speaking, not even looking at each other. Her beautiful plan was falling down around her ears.

"You wanna grab some lunch?"

Her gaze flew back to Danny. "We can't," she blurted out, panicked that Jen and Adam would turn and see them.

Eyebrows flying upwards, Danny stared at her. "You all right?" he asked again though his voice was still calm.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," he pointed out. He was starting to sound amused.

She gave him a dazzling smile. "But I am. I'm just not hungry."

"Okay. I'm just gonna go grab—"

Panicked again, she whirled to face him completely. "No! You can't." At his disbelieving expression, she felt her face crumple. "I'm sorry, but could you wait? Please?"

His eyes narrowed suspiciously and he crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down. "What'd you do, Monroe?"

"I…I didn't do anything," she tried to deny, but her voice sounded small and weak.

"Lindsay."

"I set Jen and Adam up."

He blinked at her for a moment then dropped his arms and spread his hands wide in front of him. "How does that translate into me having to starve?"

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to channel the inner strength and stoicism she'd been using to get through the day for over ten years. "I used the meeting with Mac as an excuse to back out of a lunch date. Neither of them is on today, so I thought it would be perfect. I made reservations at this new restaurant down the street…"

Danny did not look amused. "You're kidding me." Rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed in irritation. "Can I at least go grab a slice?"

"Danny," she said calmly, though she could feel the fire in her eyes. "If you wait ten minutes, I will buy you a filet mignon. But you're not leaving this building until they are safely in that restaurant."

A flicker of heated interest crossed his face at her demanding tone and he crossed his arms once again over his chest. "Is that a challenge, Monroe?"

She took a step closer to him and crossed her own arms over her chest. "Just try it, Messer."

His eyes were hot on hers and she could feel herself starting to flush. A smirk appeared on his lips as he watched her and when hers parted, he swayed towards her. Then a door opening jerked them apart.

At work. She couldn't believe she had almost torn his clothes off at work. Danny eyed her, calm now and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll go order a pizza."

She nodded and licked her dry lips. His eyes followed the motion and she nearly groaned as his gaze heated again. "And call Flack," he muttered, turning away.

An hour later, they were still waiting on Mac, who was now stuck in traffic coming back with Hawkes. But the pizza had arrived and Lindsay was laughing over the playful banter Flack and Danny flung back and forth.

So it was a bit of a shock when Jen threw open the door and marched inside, causing Lindsay, Danny and Flack to abruptly stop laughing. She came to rest with her hands on her hips next to Lindsay, obviously fuming.

"Hey, Jen," Lindsay tried as the men watched warily.

"How did you know?" Jen demanded.

"About what?"

Hopping off the high stool, Lindsay headed over to the sink and poured the rest of the coffee down the drain. Jen threw her hip out and folded her arms across her chest.

"About Adam."

Lindsay glanced at her. "Know what about—" Seeing the anger deepen behind Jen's eyes, she frowned. "Oh."

"What 'oh'?" Flack muttered to Danny who gave him a confused look.

"You think I know?"

Lindsay shrugged. "It seemed like you'd suit."

Eyes widening, Jen scoffed. "You practically ordered us on a date. You must have had more than that."

"Not really," Lindsay muttered, trying to get out the door. Jen stepped in front of her and stood her ground.

"So does she like him or hate him?"

"Seriously, you're asking me?" Danny muttered incredulously.

"How?" Jen insisted.

"You really want to know?"

Exasperation made Lindsay's tone sharp and Jen narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, I really want to know."

"Because. You're pig-headed, have a neurotic need for authority, are more likely to yell than say 'hi' and have an unhealthy addiction to bad boys."

Jen's jaw dropped. "Excuse me—"

"You're also one of the kindest women I've ever met, you're a total sap for flowers—though you'd rather yell at the delivery guy than admit it—and prefer staying home with a movie to hitting the bars."

Swallowing, Jen shifted uncomfortably, apparently rethinking her need to confront Lindsay as soon as possible. She glanced at their rapt audience, but Lindsay wasn't done.

"Adam needs someone who'll test him, remind him he's strong enough to deal, but he needs someone soft, too. He can make you laugh and he'd probably bring you flowers on a just-because basis often enough that you'd need to buy new vases."

Lindsay shrugged. "You think you need someone with an edge because you have one, but that's not what you want. You want someone who'll hold you after a tough case and won't tell you to quit your job because it sometimes makes you feel bad."

Jen and Lindsay stared at each other for a while, Danny and Flack silent beside them. Then Jen shifted her weight uneasily. "What do I do now?" she asked.

Lindsay's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I've never been out with someone like Adam," Jen explained, muttering in her embarrassment.

"Well, what do you usually do? You don't exactly have trouble finding guys," Lindsay teased.

Jen looked away. "All I have to do is bare a little skin, and they're all over me. It's never gone past that."

"Never?" Lindsay repeated, surprised.

"Well, a couple times, but it just happened. It wasn't something I was looking for." She paused. "You think the skin thing would work?"

"I think the skin thing would scare him."

Jen nodded glumly. "That's what I thought."

"Please. He dated a Suicide Girl," Danny interrupted. "A little skin is not going to scare him."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Just because they're selling, doesn't mean the milk's free."

"What does that even mean?" Flack asked, shaking his head.

"It means that a Suicide Girl might bare a little skin, but it doesn't mean she's kinky or a nymphomaniac. This alleged Suicide Girl might have been a perfectly nice girl and they might have had a perfectly normal relationship."

"He dated a Suicide Girl?" Jen asked, staring from Danny to Lindsay. Panic was rising visibly behind her eyes.

Danny just shrugged and Lindsay sighed. "So he says. Forget about that. What did he say when he asked you out?"

Jen fidgeted. "He didn't."

"Didn't what?" Lindsay looked blankly at her friend.

"Ask me out," Jen hissed, slumping back against the counter.

"Then why are we having this discussion?" Flack asked, looking at Danny again who rolled his eyes with some exasperation.

"Seriously? Me?"

"Because she wants him to," Lindsay snapped at them both before gentling her tone for her friend. "Jen, I'm not really the person to talk to about this. I've never been good with the whole dating thing." Jen rubbed her forehead and Lindsay softened. "Try what you usually do. That'll probably work."

"I don't want to seduce him," Jen argued, sounding pathetic. "I want to go out with him."

Lindsay bit her lip and glanced at Danny. He watched her carefully. "Okay. How about trying to be his friend?"

Jen stared at her. "I do not want to enter the Friend Zone with this guy, Monroe."

"Look. He didn't ask you out, which means he's either not interested or he's intimidated. Since he's Adam, I'm gonna go with the latter. Get him comfortable and then swoop in with your long legs and bare skin."

Danny's eyes were locked on her as she turned. Catching his gaze, she froze. She'd basically just outlined his original plan to seduce her, though he'd used bulging biceps and flirting rather than the more feminine version.

It had definitely worked. She considered commenting that the plan was foolproof, but with Danny and Flack in the room she didn't think Jen would appreciate the sentiment.

"I need a drink," Jen muttered behind Lindsay. Then she was grabbing Lindsay's arm. "You owe me. Sullivan's. Tonight. What time do you get off?"

Wincing at the thought of drinking after her double shift, she met Jen's irritated gaze. "Eight. I'll meet you there."

"Aren't you going to be a little tired?" Danny asked calmly, picking up another slice of pizza.

Sighing, Lindsay climbed back onto her stool. "Yeah, but I threw her to the wolves earlier. I definitely owe her."

"At least it worked out for the best," he said with a shrug. Flack nodded encouragingly.

Lindsay bit her lip. "We'll see." Thinking about Jen's panicked expression, so unfamiliar on confident, sexy Detective Angell, she wanted to groan. "Did Adam really date a Suicide Girl?" she asked worriedly.

Danny lowered the pizza from his mouth and blinked at her. Then he started laughing. "Shut up, Messer," she muttered, tearing off another slice.

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qt4good: Thankfully, Adam seems to have nipped that crush in the bud. I don't think Lindsay wants to call Jen "Auntie."

scoj: Danny seems to be on the track to opening up. At least, a little bit, though he does seem to be a bit reticent. Hopefully that will change.

Murgy31: Thanks! I'm really loving writing this story. I'm almost sad that it's just about done.

chili-peppers: I figured she deserved some sort of recognition for taking a bullet for Jen. Her coworkers seem to agree though Lindsay's doesn't seem to be so sure. :-p

daytimedrama: Thanks for the review! Poor Lindsay. I personally can't imagine asking my surgeon for permission to have sex with my pseudo-boyfriend. She has way more guts than I do. Or maybe just more incentive.

ReJo: I hope you like Jen's new crush. I'm a little nervous about the reaction people will have. But I love Adam's character, so I just had to use him.

Kaoli: Fluff is on its way. Major fluff. So fluffy I can't believe I'm the one writing it. :-p

Od: Hehe. I'm glad!

Tenley: Yes, Jen's crush is a one-sided thing. I think Freddy finds it amusing, but he's not the world's most patient man. So, if Adam doesn't work out and Jen turns back to Freddy, she's in for a world of hurt. Oh, Danny and Lindsay will go farther (Barry White starts playing in the background).

Devilla: Aw, I'm so glad you like the story that much! It's become one of my favorite things I've written. But that might just be because I love D/L so much. And I give Lindsay major props for asking the doc about sex with Danny. Especially since he knows who she's talking about. I'd never be able to do that.

mercy4vr: Jen now officially has a love interest in Adam. We'll see how it plays out. The medal won't be popping up again until the next story, but it'll be there. And, yes, Lindsay is definitely being tortured just like Danny.

berta: Oh, Danny and Lindsay will be hooking up soon. Nearly there now! Hehe.

The Little Corinthian: Greg is such a cutie. I love nerds. Their brains are so intense you just want to jump them. Of course, I, too, am a nerd, so that might be the place my penchant for them stems. Speaking of nerds, how come Lindsay didn't get a single scene with Danny tonight? Why? So frustrating. My generic Costco brand is joining your Charmin's decorating mission. I'd say use the good stuff, but we're going for quantity, not quality here.

Muzzy-Olorea: Seriously, when Danny's on a mission to seduce you, how could you resist? Heck, even when he's not. And their progress will come to a head soon. Very soon.

Aromaticity: Thanks for reviewing! Action is coming up soon, no worries.

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A.N. I'll try to have the next chapter up by Friday!


	20. Chapter 20

A.N. Sorry guys, this is unbeta-ed, so any mistakes are mine alone and I apologize in advance. The bit about the picture is from Numb3rs. And I do believe there are only two chapters left.

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Mac immediately waved Lindsay inside when she knocked on the door. Holding out a folder, Mac smiled. "DB over on Park that needs some attention."

Inside she wanted to jump up and down, scream, sing, anything. Outside, she stared with her jaw agape. "Really?"

Mac laughed a little. "Really. Go. Flack's waiting for you at the scene."

With a big grin, she whirled in a flurry of curls and practically ran to gather her kit. "Thanks, Mac," she called over her shoulder.

Catapulting out the door to his office, she skidded to a halt at the sight of Danny and Hawkes. "Hey Lindsay," Hawkes said, his eyebrows raised at her jubilant expression.

"Hey guys."

She grinned at both of them and Danny shoved his hands in his pockets a small smile on his face as he watched her. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing at the file still in her hand.

Her smile grew wider until both of the men blinked at her. "This, my friends, is a case file. My case file. And if you'll excuse me, a scene is calling my name."

With that, she pushed past them and started off down the hall. They called joking encouragements after her and she raised a hand to wave without looking at them. Today was her day. Now if she could just get Danny to ask her out, everything would be perfect.

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"Just do it quick," Jen advised. "Like ripping off a bandaid."

"I can't," Lindsay wailed pitiably. "Every time I try, it's like I get verbal dyslexia. Nothing comes out right."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Jen said, sipping her wine as she stirred the pasta. "But this is the man you continually question about his sex life?"

Lindsay groaned and lowered her face into her hands. "I'm pathetic."

"You're not pathetic," Jen soothed. "Just a little awkward when Danny's involved."

"How do I get him to break?" Her fierce tone was at odds with her imploring gaze.

"You know him better than I do," Jen protested, holding up the spoon.

"I helped you with Adam," Lindsay reminded her with a pointed look.

Jen snorted. "I haven't gotten anywhere with Adam, yet." Lindsay kept staring beseechingly. "Have you tried just grabbing him and kissing him?"

"With the way my words are failing? Yeah, physical comedy is a good idea."

"Linds, Danny's your friend. It shouldn't be this hard."

Sighing, Lindsay ran a hand through her curls. "I know it shouldn't. It's just frustrating. We came so close so many times and now there's this wall. This is Freddy's fault," she muttered, though she knew it wasn't. "He's the one that made Danny afraid to touch me."

Jen looked at her strangely for a moment then shook her head, turning back to the stove. "I don't want to know."

Lindsay shrugged, too upset to try and explain. Instead, she watched Jen finish making dinner and wondered at the pensive look at her friend's face.

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Jen fidgeted as the elevator rose. 32. 33.

Usually, she was confident around guys. She knew they found her attractive, and she could hold her own in a conversation. So she'd never worried about trying to interest one. But, then, she'd always steered clear of the geeks.

34. 35.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stepped off the elevator, dodging past some of the floor's lab coat wearing residents. Geeks were a different breed entirely. They were too smart for her, leaving her at a loss for what to say. What did she know about cellular osmosis? She'd had to ask Hawkes what part of the body an ulna belonged to.

Rounding a corner, she spotted Adam in one of the labs, hunched over a microscope. She paused to watch him, trying to figure out what she'd say to him when she got inside.

Her mind was a blank.

Seeing another lab tech, a young woman with a perfect French twist in strawberry blonde shades and a folder full of results, approaching Adam's table, Jen involuntarily stepped back. She watched as the woman addressed Adam with the kind of ease smart women had talking to smart men. He smiled and they chatted for a couple of minutes while he looked over the results.

Jen's stomach was knotted. Maybe he already had feelings for someone else. A lab rat, a woman as intimidatingly smart as he was. The night before with Lindsay, the decision to pursue Adam had seemed brave and inspired, now it just seemed stupid.

Then the redhead was passing Jen's lookout spot at the glass wall on her way out the door. She gave Jen a strange look, but Jen didn't notice. Adam was leaning a hip against the table, chewing on the end of his pen as he read.

Now or never.

Lifting her chin in the air, she put some of her usual sashay into her walk. Striding forward, she pulled the door open with a little more force than necessary, which made Adam glance up. He blinked at her with obvious confusion then smiled.

"Hey, Angell. What can I do for you?"

She knew she was smiling back, could feel her lips curve, but could only hope it was at least somewhat flirtatious. It felt goofy. "You seen Lindsay?"

Nice. Perfect way to make a guy feel like the center of attention.

But Adam just kept smiling calmly and shrugged. "Sorry. I think she's on a case with Hawkes."

"Right. That's my case. I mean, Flack's case," she amended quickly, wanting to bite her tongue when Adam's eyebrows quirked together. "What are you working on?" she asked quickly to cover.

He glanced down at the folder in his hand. "Oh, some DNA workups for Messer and Bonasera. Their vic's rape kit actually."

"Oh." She struggled to think of something to say about DNA. She wasn't even going for interesting, just something. Her mind was still blank. "You watching the Yankees game tonight?" she asked instead.

"Wasn't planning on it," he said. He smiled at her shocked expression. "I'm from Phoenix."

"Well, you're a New Yorker now, and the Yankees should be in your blood."

Adam chuckled and she felt a tingle somewhere in her belly. "I don't even have cable."

"Come to my place, then. We'll order pizza, too, get you fully immersed in the experience," she said with a smile.

Adam shook his head amusedly. "I've had pizza since I got here, you know."

"Not Luigi's," Jen countered smugly.

He blinked and looked thoughtful, as if he were actually trying to remember every slice he'd had since coming to the city. Jen didn't doubt he could remember them all. It was wrong that that made her want to jump him.

"No," he answered finally. "I don't think I have."

"Good, it's settled. Game starts at six. I'll come back here and pick you up around five." She tried to keep the triumphant note out of her voice, she really did. But she still ended up sounding smug.

Adam smiled his gentle smile and shrugged. "All right."

Victory!

Part of her couldn't believe he'd said yes. Then she started mentally flailing herself. It was just a game. She and Mike from the precinct did this all the time. Hell, she and Lindsay did this all the time. No reason to get excited yet.

"All right. See you later then," she said with a half-smirk and turned to walk out the door.

"Jen?"

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him gesture in the opposite direction of the elevators. "Lindsay just went around that corner."

"Oh. Thanks," she said.

"No problem." He settled himself back against the table, eyes on the folder, as she stepped out the door and headed down the hallway.

Great, now she had to hunt Lindsay down, too. Rounding the corner Adam had indicated, she found Lindsay and Danny standing awfully close together.

"Okay," she announced in her usual loud voice. They jumped in surprise and turned to look at her. Lindsay started to open her mouth, but Jen cut her off. "So, he's coming over to watch the game."

Wordlessly, Danny turned and walked down the hallway. Lindsay glanced at his back before turning back to meet Jen's eyes.. "That's good."

"Yeah, but I'm quickly heading into friends' territory here, Linds."

Lindsay smiled and started retracing Jen's steps down the hall. "I don't think it works the same way for guys."

Jen thought about it then nodded agreeably. "Yeah, I've had sex with friends before. But that never ends well."

Lindsay blinked, but only nodded. "Okay then. You're not out of the running yet."

Jen stuck her hands in her pockets. "What do I talk to him about?"

"What?"

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she stopped and moved closer to Lindsay. "He's crazy smart, all right? I can't talk about the things he's interested in."

Lindsay looked confused. "You're not exactly dumb, Jen."

Shooting her an exasperated look, Jen surreptitiously glanced behind her and saw Adam bent over the microscope again. He even looked smart doing that. Capable, really. Okay, so she had it bad.

Lindsay sighed. "He's going to talk about the game, not radioisotopes. Just calm down. If you don't know what he's talking about, ask him to explain. He's a nice guy, remember?"

"I don't want to bore him."

"I'm sure he has other interests than DNA and analyzing trace," Lindsay said as they headed towards the elevators.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, Jen. I'm sure it'll come up in conversation. Talk about the game. See what teams he likes."

Jen sighed and got behind the other people waiting for a downward moving car. "I only like New York teams. I don't know much about any others." When Lindsay started to speak again, Jen waved her off and moved towards the now open elevator. "I'm sure everything will work out. At least he's coming over, right?"

Lindsay watched the doors slide closed, blocking Jen from view, unable to think of a response. Even after the numbers told her Jen had reached the lobby, Lindsay stared ahead of her, a death grip on her case file. Her mind racing from one thought to the next.

"Hey, Linds."

Broken out of her reverie, she looked up and found Flack smiling next to her. "Hey," she said, smiling back.

"Daydreaming?" He grinned and pocketed his black book.

Laughing lightly, Lindsay shook her head. "Not exactly. I think the thoughts would have to be pleasant for dreams, right?"

He frowned down at her in obvious concern. "Something wrong?"

"No, no. Everything's fine," she murmured, smiling wryly. "Just woolgathering, I suppose."

"Wool gathering?" he repeated with a chuckle.

The elevator doors swung open again, and Lindsay blinked at the sudden appearance of people in front of her. Flack stepped forward, glancing over his shoulder and holding then doors open with his hand when he realized she handed followed.

"Going down?" he asked, his frown back in place.

"No," she said quietly, more to herself than to him, and turned on her heel. As she set off down the hall, she heard him drawl "O-okay" and then the ding of the elevator closing.

Walking briskly, she headed towards the A/V lab on the other side of the floor, determination in every step. Jen had taken the chance, the one Lindsay still needed to take, and she'd done it with confidence. That was the key, really. Confidence.

Outside the door, she took a deep breath before she quietly opened it and stepped inside. Danny was leaning over the touchpad podium, engrossed in whatever was on the wall screen. At the click of the door closing, he glanced over.

"Hey," he said with a welcoming half-grin.

"Hey. This the image you were talking about?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah." Quickly, he zoomed into an area of the photo. "See the fuzziness of the picture?" Staring intently, she nodded.

"Well, that's not shoddy camera work," he told her smugly. He moved to the computer next to the touchpad and typed quickly. On the screen, a second image began to separate out of the pixels of the first.

Involuntarily, Lindsay took a step forward. "No way."

"Cool, huh?" Danny asked, still focused on the screen. Without meaning to, Lindsay had stepped in front of the touchpad and Danny accidentally bumped into her.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously, pausing to stare at each other before chuckling nervously.

Lindsay smiled ruefully and edged away from the podium. "So what does it tell you about your case?" she asked, eyeing the images of the two houses.

"I dunno, yet. Give me a minute to look at it." His voice was teasing and he tossed her a grin, but embarrassment suffused her.

Taking it as a sign to get out of the conversation before she completely bungled it, she turned towards the door. Danny's voice stopped her.

"Did you need something?" he asked absently.

He appeared absorbed in his work as he rotated and clarified the images, and she knew that she could escape without his ever being the wiser about her intention. Deciding to do just that, she opened her mouth to speak then snapped it shut again, remembering Jen's inspiring courage.

Clearing her throat, she shrugged casually though he wasn't looking at her. "I was just wondering if you were going to watch the game tonight."

"The Yankees?" he scoffed. "They're not ballplayers, they're media whores."

Nodding, Lindsay took a step towards the door. "Nevermind then."

Suddenly, he seemed to realize who he was talking to. "Wait, why?"

"No reason," she said nonchalantly, inwardly cringing at how awfully her brilliant scheme had turned out. "I was going to see if you wanted to watch with me. But if you don't like them, forget it."

"What time?"

Lindsay blinked at his neutral face. "What…Game starts at six."

"I get off at three. You?"

"Same," she said warily.

"We'll watch at my place," he told her, turning back to the images. "Your screen's too small."

"My screen is not too small. Your expectations are too big."

He sent her a wicked smile over his shoulder, but all he said was, "See you at six, Montana."

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Considering Danny's obvious hatred of the Yankees, she was touched that he'd chosen to sit through it in favor of spending time with her. It was the most romantic gesture he could have made, given his personality.

And, yet, she really hated him.

After the game, during which he found as many ways to unfavorably compare the Yankees to the Mets as possible, he informed her that when the Mets played the next day, the Yankees would weep.

"Why?" she asked. "They're not playing each other are they?"

"The glory, Montana. The Yankees can't compete with the glory."

Completely confused, she just smiled and sipped her wine. "Why the Mets?"

"They're the best," he said immediately, almost automatically. When she rolled her hand through the air to prompt elaboration, he shrugged. "My dad took me to my first Mets game when I was five. He caught a fly foul and gave it to me. The guy who hit it signed it for me. It's on the bookshelf."

She glanced where he gestured and saw a baseball in a special case resting on the middle shelf of his bookcase. Standing, she walked over to it and peered at the signature behind the plastic.

"Doug Flynn," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. Surprised to find that he'd followed her.

Reaching past her, he picked the whole thing up and held it in his hand. "Second baseman and shortstop. They traded him after the next season."

Lindsay winced. "Ouch."

Danny just shrugged and put it back down. "It happens."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't suck," she pointed out.

Granting that with a nod, he moved back towards the couch. "When I was still training with the minors, I was never sure where I'd end up."

"But the Mets were the dream?"

"Of course," he said, smiling lazily. "There was this one time, I was training with a team in Chicago."

As she listened, she watched the way his eyes lit up when he told a story. His skin was bronze in the lamplight, and she desperately wanted to touch it, to see if it was as soft as it looked. With the gold of his hair, he just seemed sort of gold all over as he sat there telling a story about his college days. She was pretty sure she was losing her mind.

Scooting forward slightly on the pretense of adjusting her legs under her, Lindsay managed to bring herself within a foot of Danny. He must have noticed, but it didn't even register on his face. He was as flirty and animated as ever, but he hadn't gone past that boundary he'd set up.

She knew that she could have leaned in and kissed him herself, but he'd been so involved in his story, she didn't want to interrupt. So, instead, she just watched his eyes sparkle and tried to mentally force him into kissing her.

It didn't work. So she hated him.

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"I knocked over a vase."

Looking up from her trace, Lindsay raised an eyebrow at her best friend. "What?"

"With my elbow," Jen elaborated, her whisper taking on a hiss-like quality. "I don't even remember where it came from."

"You knocked over a vase in your apartment?" Lindsay surmised, eyes narrow as she tried to follow the conversation.

"Yes. In front of Adam," Jen stressed.

Lindsay winced in sympathy. "What'd he do?"

"Helped me clean it up. Then examined my elbow to make sure I hadn't hurt it."

"That's so sweet," Lindsay said, letting a smile spread over her face.

Jen groaned and leaned against the table. "Yeah, it was nice. Especially when he rolled up my sleeve to get at my elbow. He has really nice hands. Gentle, you know?" She looked a bit gooey for a moment then shook her head and dropped her face in her hands. "I'm such a spaz."

"I'm sure he knows you were just nervous," Lindsay reassured her, putting her samples in the spinner.

Sighing, Jen shook her head one last time then glanced at Lindsay. "What'd you do last night?"

Her mood turned bitter. "I invited Danny over to watch the game."

"Oh yeah?" Jen perked up, straightening from the table with an anticipatory look in her eye. "How'd it go?"

"It didn't go anywhere," Lindsay informed her, roughly punching the buttons on the machine.

"Nothing?" Jen asked incredulously.

"Not even a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night." Sighing, Lindsay turned back to Jen with an imploring gaze. "Maybe he's changed his mind."

"He hasn't." Jen's voice was firm but Lindsay's expression didn't change. "Ask him," Jen told her.

Lindsay's fear turned to worry. "I can't do that," she said, horrified.

"Why not? It's the only way to find out how he feels. And he's the one that put up this wall, you're just going to have to break it down."

Lindsay raised her eyebrow. "Wall? No, I think that was me."

"Whatever," Jen said, waving her hand through the air. "Either way, you're still going to have to be the one who does something about it."

She could feel herself glaring at the evidence she was packing back in their bags, but couldn't make herself stop. "Why?" she asked petulantly.

"Because he's not doing anything about it," Jen pointed out. Glancing down at her watch, Jen sighed and moved away from the table. "I've gotta go. Talk to him."

"You, too," Lindsay called, smiling when Jen wrinkled her nose and nodded.

A few minutes later, Adam poked his head into her lab and pointed at the lab next door. "Hey, Lindsay, your results are printing on our printer."

Lindsay blinked. "Oh, sorry." Stripping her gloves, she followed him to the other lab, wondering if she should say something to him about Jen. It seemed a bit intrusive, but she'd already set them up on an unwitting blind date and he didn't seem upset about that.

The decision was made for her when they entered the lab and she saw all the other techs wandering around. Coming to the conclusion that the moment was not right for a Jen discussion, she tossed him a smile, which he returned. His timidity was now almost nonexistent around the team, except Mac. It was nice to be able to get to know Adam.

Stepping up to the printer, she waited for the sheets to finish printing and glanced up, spotting Danny in a lab across the floor. Suddenly, her mind seemed to shut down temporarily.

Staring at him through the glass walls of the lab and break room, Lindsay felt annoyance rise in her as he laughed at something a small redheaded lab tech said. She knew it wasn't fair after everything she'd put him through to expect him to make the move she wanted, but she couldn't help it. He was a dominant person and part of her reveled in that, just as she reveled in the moments she controlled him.

She'd tried a hundred times to show him how she felt, seeking him out at work, finding any excuse to touch him. She sighed and looked back at the printer as her results came out.

Glancing back up, the paper crinkled when Lindsay felt her fists clench as she saw the lab tech touch his arm. So casually, so gently.

He didn't pull away.

Turning away, Lindsay saw half the lab glance back down to their tables. Spinning from the room, she marched—seething—down the hall to Mac's office. Without knocking, she swung the door open and stomped across the room to stand in front of his desk.

Mac blinked up at her with a mild expression. "Yes, Lindsay?"

"Quinine." She shoved the crumpled paper towards him. "Quinine poisoning. Wife's clothes tested positive for it."

"Bring her in. See if she cracks."

"Thanks, Mac," she muttered. Lindsay twirled and swung out the door again, nearly running Danny over.

"Whoa, Montana," he said good-naturedly as she tried to regain her balance. "Where's the fire?"

"Quinine," she muttered, biting her tongue to keep from shouting 'Don't touch him' at the lab tech stepped up next to them.

"Hey, Monroe," she greeted with a smile.

Lindsay recognized her from the DNA lab. She was a genius at extracting DNA from the smallest sample. Almost as good as Jane or Adam. What was her name? Kathy maybe?

"Hey," Lindsay responded, smiling tightly. Her voice was barely audible as she pushed past them and strode down the hall, pulling out her phone as she went.

"What's with her?" she heard the woman ask behind her.

She didn't hear Danny's answer, but she could feel his gaze on her back until she turned the corner. She sighed and tried to make the tight knot in her stomach ease a bit. She knew she was being ridiculous. Danny had basically told her he wasn't interested in other women. But the thing with jealousy was that it rarely made any sort of sense.

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After going crazy all day, almost losing it in the interrogation room—Flack had to pull her out and ask her if she could handle it—Lindsay knew she had to do something. Sitting on her couch in the fading sunlight, she lowered her face into her hands.

She'd yelled at Adam, something she never did; he was too nice for wrath. As soon as she'd done it, she apologized, but he'd still been walking on eggshells around her for the rest of the day. Luckily, she hadn't run into either Danny or Jen—who would quite possibly eviscerate her for yelling at Adam— but she'd had to face Mac again to give him the results on the interrogation. And he was watching her like a hawk.

Suddenly, she felt determination sweep through her. She wasn't a shrinking violet. She had the power to get what she wanted, and she knew how to do it.

Grabbing her coat from the back of the couch, she was out the door and to the elevator in seconds. Outside, she headed for the subway, needing the time to think. The trip wasn't short, but she was so busy trying to plan out what she would say that she almost missed the stop.

But she was pretty sure she had the speech all worked out. She'd just explain to him very carefully that she needed to jump him. No, wait, that couldn't be right. She should probably say something about how she never really felt like herself when she wasn't with him. And how he made her feel alive for the first time in ten years; how she hadn't even known she wasn't living until she met him. There, that sounded much better than, "I'm sorry, but I have to jump you or I'll lose my mind."

Then she was standing in front of his building, staring at the steps leading to the front door. She didn't know how long she stood there, trying to gel the words together in her mind. When a man passed by, eyeing her speculatively, she forced her feet to move. The only person she wanted to talk to was upstairs.

She rang his buzzer and waited. Nothing. Biting her lip, it suddenly occurred to her that he probably wasn't home, still working on the case with Jen. She felt herself deflate and half-heartedly rang his buzzer again.

"Stupid," she muttered to herself, turning to head back down the stairs.

"Yeah?" Danny's voice crackled through the speaker.

Leaping back, she leaned on the button before she could think better of it. "Danny, it's Lindsay."

"Hey, c'mon up," he said without hesitation.

Then the door was shrieking and she grabbed it quickly. Inside, the elevator was on the fifth floor but, deciding she didn't want to climb four flights of stairs to appear at his door red and sweaty, she impatiently waited. Finally, the doors slid open and she swiftly stepped inside, hitting the button for the fourth floor several times too many.

As the elevator began to rise, painstakingly slowly, she grasped the railing. Suddenly, all the words she'd planned so carefully were gone. Completely wiped from her mind. Panic rose to lodge in her throat.

The doors almost closed on Danny's floor before she could make herself step through them. She was there now, so no turning back. In a daze, Lindsay drifted to his door and forced herself to knock.

The door swung open almost immediately to reveal a grinning Danny. "Hey, Montana."

She knew her smile was a bit shaky, but she didn't know if Danny could tell. She could hear the noise of the Mets game on the tv in the living room as Danny stepped aside to let her slip past.

Fear swept through her as she came to a halt in his hallway. She struggled to act normally, shrugging off her jacket and hanging it on the coat rack while Danny locked the door behind her.

"Beer?" he asked, gesturing to the kitchen with his thumb.

"Sure," Lindsay answered, shrugging.

He headed towards the kitchen and her mind went blank. She couldn't think of anything to say as his body moved farther away from hers. She watched him lean down to grab a bottle from the fridge, his shirt stretching across his back and arms. She had to say something, at least to get the conversation started. The whole reason she'd come here was to confront Danny about her feelings, discern where he stood now.

Biting her lip, she desperately tried to think of anything to say as he flipped the top off the bottle and started back towards her. "You all right there?" he asked with a confused grin as she stared wide-eyed and pale in exactly the same spot he'd left her.

"I'm ready," was the genius beginning that came out of her mouth. It made him stop in his tracks, confusion shadowing his face.

His head cocked to the side as he lifted the bottle questioningly. "For…beer?"

"No, I mean…I'm ready," she repeated, for lack of anything else to say. It took a moment, but she watched it sink in. He didn't answer, but his body tensed. Finally, the words started pouring out of her mouth.

"I've been trying to show you, but you haven't seemed to—And it's not your fault," she assured him, shaking her head and taking a few steps towards him. "I put up this wall between us, and you were respecting the wall."

"The…wall?" he repeated. He still wasn't moving, so she left the remaining several feet of distance between them intact.

"Yeah, the wall. It kinda resembles the Great Wall of China, so I thought I should just come out and tell you. That I'm ready," she stressed when he still didn't seem to get it.

Danny's mouth moved, but no sound came out. He looked completely flummoxed by the whole conversation. Lindsay winced and started to spell it out for him.

"I want everything with you. I want you to be the one who takes me to my first Mets game. I want to call you if I see something funny on tv. If I'm renting a movie, I want you to tease me about my love of chick flicks. I want you to be the first person I see in the morning and the last at night. You're already the one I think about."

She paused and took a deep breath. "I know all of this is kind of intense since we've never really been on a date, but I thought you should know."

The game was still loud in the background, but all Lindsay could hear was her own breathing. As Danny stared back at her, Lindsay tried to make her brain function on a level high enough to decipher why he wasn't moving, saying something. Then she sluggishly came to the only conclusion that made sense and horror swept through her.

"Oh God," she whispered, her hand going to cover her mouth.

His eyebrows twitched together and his mouth opened as he stepped towards her. Instinctively, she took a step back and he jerked to a stop, still several feet away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes dropping away from his face. "I didn't think—I shouldn't have done this. You weren't missing the signs, you were ignoring them."

Danny was shaking his head and setting her beer down, but she was too busy trying to regain her composure to notice. "I'll go."

"Montana—"

"Really, I'm sorry. So sor—I have to go."

"Lindsay. Stop."

She went rigid at the command in his voice, unused to the sound of it, all the while willing herself not to cry as she lifted her chin in the air to meet his eyes. His face was set and he looked like he was balanced between anger and pain as he came towards her. She bit her lip then gasped as he grabbed her arms and pulled her against his chest.

When his breath brushed across her lips, her eyes drifted shut with a strange impression of butterfly wings. Then his lips touched hers for the first time, and she collapsed against his chest in relief.

She wound her arms tightly around his neck and hung on for dear life as he worked his mouth over hers. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rough either, and she felt herself melting into him immediately without conscious thought. It was too much. She'd wondered about what it would be like for too long; she was too hungry for it. Her hopes should have been too high, but somehow he'd surpassed them just by being Danny.

Finally, when she'd forgotten how to breathe, he lifted his head.

Her lids fluttered open and she met his gaze dazedly. "So, you're not letting me down easy," she murmured.

She watched in fascination as his lips started to curve upwards. "No."

She couldn't hear the game anymore as his head lowered again. Nothing else mattered as Danny's lips brushed hers briefly and she let out a little whimper. When he lifted his head again, she heard someone clear their throat.

Blinking languidly, she turned her head to find Flack and Hawkes sitting on the couch, eyes respectfully averted. It took a moment to register what she was seeing then she tensed in Danny's arms, bracing her hands against his chest.

He let her pull away and casually shoved a hand in his pocket. Reaching over, he picked up her beer and handed it to her.

"You two need to be alone?" Flack asked, staring at the tv.

"No. Nope. We're good," Lindsay stammered, taking a swig of the cool liquid.

Danny chuckled and headed to the couch, his mind already seemingly back on the game. After a minute, Lindsay followed and gingerly perched on the couch, cradling her beer bottle in both hands. She heard Danny scoff quietly next to her, her body dipping with the cushions as he slid closer. Then his arm was around her and she felt the tension drain from her body.

Lindsay relaxed enough that, despite the pleasant tingling on her face where his beard had scraped against her, she found herself actually paying attention to the game. A few minutes later, the ref made a horrible call, ending the seventh inning with the Mets robbed of a run, and Danny took his arm away to gesture angrily while screaming in Italian.

She didn't mind the loss so much, though, since she, too, was yelling at the screen.

He didn't put his arm back, leaning forward in preparation for a shut-out inning. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered.

"Oh come on," Lindsay cried when the ump called a ball on a perfect pitch.

Flack tossed up his hand. "That guy needs a new eye."

Lindsay snorted. "He got a new eye, he'd be a cyclops," she muttered, disgruntled.

The guys chuckled, agreeing, and Danny absently reached over to play with the small curls escaping from her ponytail at the base of her neck. When she felt her breathing and heart rate pick up, Lindsay squirmed a little in her seat and desperately hoped he didn't notice.

Throughout the rest of the game, Danny found small, casual ways to touch her. Just a brush of his leg against her thigh, his fingers glancing over hers as he handed her the beer bottle. By the time Flack and Hawkes filed out the door, she was ready to tear off her clothes.

She stood uneasily in his living room as Danny flipped the locks, unsure what to do now that she'd laid it on the line for him. She might not be good at this sort of thing, but she was pretty sure it was his move. He turned back towards her with an unreadable expression and eyed her thoughtfully.

"You hungry?" he asked.

The sudden urge to laugh made her grin uncontrollably. "Starving," she said and a smile spread across his face.

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Dinner was a simple affair at a little café around the corner from his house. Lindsay was shocked to find that she actually was starving and remembered she'd been too tense to eat all day. Throughout the meal, she kept looking up to find Danny watching her, a small smile on his face. But whenever he met her eyes, he'd just shake his head slightly as if he was trying to remind himself to eat and dropped his gaze back to his plate.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" he asked as they left the restaurant.

She nodded, winding her scarf around her neck. "You?"

"My case is still hot."

Buttoning her coat, she glanced up at him. "Getting anywhere?"

"Not really," he said with a tired half-grin.

"You want to talk it out?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as they dodged other people on the street.

His smile grew and he shook his head. "Not tonight," he murmured.

She could feel herself blushing as his eyes twinkled at her. Who would have thought Danny Messer—the badass cop on a motorcycle—had eyes that could twinkle? Biting her lip, she ducked her head and reached up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.

Her breath caught as she felt his hand gently take hers. Looking at their entwined hands, she wanted to shout out to the world. Instead, she slid her fingers between his to hold him even closer.

"Let's get you home," he said quietly, so that she was the only one on the street who could hear him.

The subway was surprisingly crowded, and they found themselves squished together as they grasped the handholds. After constantly brushing against each other, Danny finally just wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into him. Dropping the handhold, Lindsay braced herself against his chest and rested her head on his shoulder for the remainder of the ride.

Though it was a sweet and tender gesture, it was also torturous. Every time someone bumped into her from behind, it pressed her body against his. By the time the ride was over, her breathing was shaky and she felt flushed all over. Danny, on the other hand, didn't seem to have been effected at all as he walked her out of the subway and to her building.

He waited patiently as she unlocked the front door and they stepped inside to press the button. As soon as her building's elevator doors shut, Danny was pushing her back against the railing and latching his mouth onto hers. She responded eagerly, part of her wished the fickle elevator would shut down as it was wont to do in far less ideal moments.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulled him as close as she could with her winter clothes in the way. But even that wasn't enough and she trailed one hand down from his neck to move underneath his leather jacket. Of course, he still had a sweater and shirt in the way, but it was better than being outside the leather.

When the doors dinged open on her floor, her dream of being caught between floors shattered into oblivion, but she really wasn't thinking about it anymore as Danny walked her backwards towards her door.

He leaned her against it, still plundering her mouth. She wondered if he didn't need to breathe at some point, then his tongue swept against hers and she desperately hoped he wouldn't need to. His fingers dug out her keys, his mouth never leaving hers, and he flipped the locks before dropping the keys back in her pocket.

Opening the door behind her, she tangled her fingers in his jacket and stepped back inside her apartment. One of his hands reached out and caught the door, slamming it shut behind them. But when she tried to pull him further into the apartment, Danny wouldn't budge.

She made a questioning sound in the back of her throat and he eased back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Slow. We're going to go slow here," Danny muttered as if trying to remind himself.

Lindsay stifled a groan and nodded breathlessly. "Good idea."

She ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and he brushed his lips over her cheek. Leaning back, he let his eyes run over her face, expression serious. When she bit her lip, suddenly shy, he smiled.

"I should go," he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She reluctantly let her arms slide away from him as he stepped back. Then he grinned and she felt her stomach flip like it always did.

"See you in the morning?" he asked after he'd opened the door.

"Yeah. Morning," she repeated.

"What time are you on?" he asked, backing out the door an inch at a time.

She watched him in amusement. "Nine."

"Bring coffee?"

Pausing, she was surprised into laughter. "Sure."

He grinned again and started to close the door. "See ya, Montana," she heard just before the door clicked shut.

"Bye," she murmured. She listened for a moment, but couldn't hear his footsteps. Tentatively, she brought her fingertips to her lips and her eyes focused into the distance.

Danny Messer was quite possibly the best kisser in the world.

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qt4good: Adam needs some lovin' I think. He's just so goofily adorable. Besides, no one works a beard quite like Adam.

daytimedrama: The hot sex will be coming, sort of. (see author's note on next chapter) Definitely confusing ground, though no one who'd been through the trials and tribulations they have would fall on the side of friend rather than lover. I hope.

Kaoli: They're already nuts. But they're together now! Woot! And more fluff to come.

Murgy31: Thanks! I hope you liked the fluffy moments here. Danny and Lindsay are officially together now.

Tenley: Consider that wall broken. Mostly. I think everyone is intimidated by Jen at first, particularly as a man since she's such hot stuff. And she's being pretty aggressive. Poor shy Adam. I'm glad you liked the Mac moment. I totally thought there needed to be a reference to the conversation between Danny and Mac back in Season 1. I mean, it was such foreshadowing (though it probably wasn't meant to be at the time) for the Lindsay situation.

Marue61: Eek! I meant to write Bronx. I thought I'd written Bronx. I'll go back and change that after I post this. :-p Thanks for pointing it out! And we've taken a step forward, which I find exciting. Hehe.

chili-peppers: I'm glad you like Adam and Jen. I think it'll be interesting writing them. I have plans for them, believe me. (evil laugh)

Quintessence of Darkness: Hi! Thanks for reviewing! I'm so glad you've liked the story so far. Just a couple more chapters left and then on to the final installment! I hope the next few chapters don't disappoint.

berta101: I could never write Danny and Lindsay hating each other. The next story will have angst, but no hating, I promise. I'm so glad Freddy has a few fans. I really love him. Flack will have a bigger role in the next fic, too, despite the trouble I have writing him. Hopefully, it'll get easier with practice. :-p Thanks for sticking with the stories as long as you have. Your encouragement has been really great. I hope you like the last few chapters!

ReJo: I hope you weren't hanging for too long. And there it is, the first kiss! I hope you liked it. More to come!

Devilla: I was glad that Lindsay had a chance to be there for Danny, too. I mean, I know she was there for him during the Louie thing, but we never really saw it. And yay for Lindsay, going after what she wants! Poor Jen, though, is really freaking out. Haha.

CarolinaH.Manning: Yeah, Lindsay and Danny are the poster children for the necessity of communication. I think Jen needs a bit of sweetness in her life to offset the bitterness she sometimes exhibits, you know? And Adam will definitely supply that.

seren23: Thanks for the encouragement about Flack. I've been trying to write a Danny/Flack scene for a while now, and it just hasn't been working. Which is bad since Flack plays a major role in the next story. (sigh) But it's good to have comic relief, right? By the way, excellent job so far on Push Me. I'm looking forward to the next chapter! (You're on my alert list. :-p)

RachelHeidi: I'm so down. I've got my Kirkland all ready to go. Just give me a time and place. But the silence between them means that we have to have some D/L this week, right? They wouldn't go so long without a real scene, would they?? It definitely sounds like cruel and unusual education practices. I think a major protest is in order. Let me know when and I'll bring my Berkeley hippie friends. Adam is so great! Maybe we could leave a note requesting more Adam when we TP the houses. I adore him. And, thus, he will be getting some hot lovin' soon. Bump-chicka-wow-wow.

scoj: They will be getting it on soon! They're already well on their way. And only two chapters left! Hehe.

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A.N. Just two more chapters left, guys. Hang in there!


	21. Chapter 21

A.N. I'd like to state that I have nothing against the Red Sox or the Yankees. If you're a rabid fan, please don't hurt me if I unintentionally insult your favorite team.

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"Morning."

Looking up from dodging around the other people exiting the elevator, Lindsay saw Danny leaning against the wall across from her. "Hey," she said with a sly smile. "You waiting for me? Or the coffee?"

"Took you long enough," he replied, accepting the offered cup.

"Careful, it's hot," she warned him, heading towards the locker room. "I already burned my tongue on mine."

"Really?"

The heat in his tone made her head jerk up to him in surprise. The glitter in his eye affirmed it. Just mentioning her tongue turned him on? Seriously? A sly smile spread across her face. She could work with that.

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Jen was beginning to feel like a stalker. Her eyes followed Adam through the glass as he moved from the machine to the printer and back again. His steps were slow, sure, precise. She wanted to bite him.

Shaking her head to clear it, she decided now was not the best time to be confronting Adam. Not when she was thinking about biting him.

Instead, she took off down the hall to the break room, knowing Lindsay would be headed there soon for her mid-afternoon caffeine hit. Unfortunately, when she got there, Lindsay was not alone.

Eyeing the strange lab tech resting at the table, Jen stepped up next to the coffee pot. "Hey," she said.

Lindsay glanced up from her case file with an absent smile. "Hey, Jen. How's it going?"

"Fine. Fine." Jen slid her eyes back to the lab tech. "Danny and I solved that case."

"Danny mentioned that. Congratulations."

Jen smiled wanly. "It was hell, but it was worth it for the look on the guy's face when he figured out we got him."

"I love that look."

Jen laughed at the dreamy expression on Lindsay's face. "What're you working on?"

"Guy found dead in a bathtub, covered in honey."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah. I'm still waiting on cause of death," Lindsay muttered, eyes still on the case file as she blindly poured coffee into a mug. Reaching out, Jen directed Lindsay's hand a little to the left. "Thanks."

"No problem." Jen held her breath as the lab tech finally stood and left the room. Quickly, she brandished her cell phone. "What is this?"

Startled at the sudden intensity, Lindsay jerked back a little, nearly dropping both her mug and her folder. "What? Your cell?"

"This text," Jen insisted, turning the phone so Lindsay could see the text she'd received that morning.

Lindsay squinted at the small screen. "Sure," she read. Her eyes lifted to Jen's. "I have no idea."

"It's from Adam," Jen said in a whisper. "It's a reply."

"To…what?" Eyes widening, Lindsay leaned forward. "Did you invite him out again?"

"Not exactly," Jen mumbled, clutching the phone with both hands and straining to read the hidden meaning in the message. "I invited him to watch the game at my place."

"The Red Sox?" Lindsay said in surprise.

Jen rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm desperate."

"I'll say." At Jen's beleaguered expression, Lindsay sighed. "What exactly did you say in the text?"

"It wasn't a text," Jen said with a sick look on her face. "I left him a voicemail yesterday."

"And he texted back?" Lindsay bit her lip.

"I know, right?" Jen's head dropped back, banging against the cupboards, but she didn't even blink at the pain. "I knew I was boring."

"You're not boring," Lindsay reprimanded her. She flipped the file in her hand closed. "Maybe he doesn't realize you're pursuing him."

It was an old argument, and Jen glared at Lindsay. "Of course he knows," she snapped. "I did everything but fall in his lap."

Clearly at a loss for words, Lindsay looked at her for a long minute before reaching for the phone. "Let me see that."

"It doesn't say anything more than 'sure.' I've read it a dozen times," Jen complained, rubbing her temple. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"I'm texting him back."

Jen straightened from her slouch, watching Lindsay's thumb fly over the keys. "Why?"

"I'm canceling your plans."

"What?" The shrill cry made Mac look up as he passed the break room. His frown made Jen want to crawl behind Lindsay. "Why would you do that?" she hissed, trying to keep her voice near silent.

Lindsay handed the phone back with a determined expression. "Well, chasing him didn't work. Maybe he needs to chase."

"Linds, he's just not interested," Jen explained. "He's never even looked at me for an inappropriate amount of time."

"Jen, you're model material. Of course he's looked at you."

Lindsay sounded so impatient that Jen forced back an affectionate smile as she spoke. "Really, Linds. I know guys and he's not going to—"

The phone vibrated in her hand. Both women glanced down at it, still hanging between them in Jen's hand. Fumbling with the clamshell, Jen flipped it open and saw Adam Ross flash on the screen.

Pressing send, she brought the phone to her ear and shared a stunned glance with Lindsay. "Angell?"

"Hey. It's Adam."

"Hey, Adam," she said smoothly, her voice smoothly hiding her nervousness. A first around him.

"Hey." He sounded nervous, though, which was interesting. "Uh, everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. Why?" She let herself pause. "Oh, canceling. Yeah. Sorry about that. New case. Big case."

"Should I plan on skipping lunch then?" he joked.

Lindsay was shaking her head at Jen's stupidity. Pulling a face at her friend, Jen turned away and forced a laugh. "No, no. Not that big. Just confusing."

"I see. Well good luck on it. Let me know if I can do anything."

The sweetness of the words made her collapse back against the counter. "Thank you, Adam."

"You're welcome," he murmured, his voice warm. "Besides, there's a game tomorrow night, too."

"Yeah, there is," she said softly.

"I should probably come watch that with you." His voice was so matter-of-fact it took a moment for Jen to comprehend what was happening.

"Should you now?"

"Definitely. The Yankees—"

"Red Sox."

"The Red Sox," he corrected smoothly, "need us to root for them." A slow smile spread across her face. "Unless, of course, you don't want to watch the game. In which case—"

"What time?" she asked innocently.

"I thought you didn't care about anyone but the Yankees," he said rather than answer.

"I don't," she murmured. She heard him let out a breath, something that served as a chuckle for Adam.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow then," he said. "Good luck with your case."

"Thanks. You, too."

"Bye, Angell."

"Bye."

Flipping the phone closed, Jen turned back to Lindsay, who had a death grip on the file. A huge grin spread across Jen's face. "He flirted with me."

"I could tell," Lindsay said, excitement shining in her eyes. Her fingers clenched even tighter around the folder. "I can't believe it worked."

"Me either," Jen whispered, eyes wide with shock and happiness. "He flirted with me."

"Yeah."

"He called me."

"Yeah."

"I love you," Jen said, leaning down to brush a kiss over Lindsay's cheek. "You're absolutely the best friend ever."

"He's the one that flirted with you," Lindsay pointed out.

She couldn't seem to wipe the grin off her face. "I know." She paused, though she still looked overjoyed when she spoke. "I have to get off the floor without Adam seeing me."

"Go around that way," Lindsay told her, her own eyes still resembling saucers as she raised a finger.

"Bye."

"Yeah."

With that, Jen left, feeling a bit dazed. And when she was assigned a homicide with Hawkes twenty minutes later, she felt better about having lied to Adam on the phone about a case.

And she did end up sending him enough trace to keep him off his lunch hour, the results of which she received less than two hours later with a new text: "Thanks so much. –Adam"

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"Who drowns someone with honey?" Lindsay asked irritably, tossing another glossy photo down on the reconstruction table.

"A sociopath?"

Stella sounded so tired that Lindsay sent her a glance from under her lashes. She watched as Stella rubbed the back of her forearm over her forehead, the circles under the older woman's eyes suddenly quite prominent.

"You all right?"

By the time Stella looked at her, Lindsay's eyes were back on the crime scene photos. "I'm fine. It's just this case. Three days and nothing to show for it?"

Lindsay knew she was lying, could see the forced annoyance in Stella's eyes when she glanced at her. Her boss had never minded going over evidence again and again. She was meticulous and enjoyed being so.

"Maybe it's not in the photos," Lindsay said, tossing the file down.

"If it was at the crime scene, it's in the photos," Stella told her absently, carefully examining one of the victim's couch.

"Maybe what we're looking for wasn't at the crime scene."

Stella gave her a stern look before picking up the next photo. "Whaddyou mean?"

Biting her lip, Lindsay considered her words carefully. "We know this guy is guilty, right? I mean, he all but chortled when we told him about Reyes's death."

"We can't convict him on gut instinct, Lindsay."

"I know," Lindsay assured her. "But we found his print, right?"

Stella raised her eyes again. "A print on the doorknob doesn't give us anything."

"But we can prove he was inside. Let's take the warrant."

"Lindsay," Stella began. "We have to build a case before we go in guns blazing."

Hiding her wince at the metaphor, Lindsay shook her head. "It's not here, Stel. What we need to convict this guy is not here. We take the warrant. We search his apartment. If we get lucky, we find the murder weapon."

"Honey?" Stella said, hoisting a picture of the sticky mess on the inside of the bathtub. "How on earth will we prove it's the same honey?"

Lindsay sighed impatiently. "Stella. We can't just sit here going over the pictures again and again. The case is aging while we argue."

Nodding, Stella tossed the photos down. "I'll talk to Mac. But if this honey disintegrates before we get there—"

"Actually, honey lasts forever," Lindsay cut in. "As long as it's not contaminated."

"I don't want to know how you know that," Stella told her, moving out of the lab.

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Picking up her plate, Lindsay followed Danny into her kitchen. "I don't think the print is going to be all that helpful unless we can find some DNA to go with it."

"It got you the warrant," he pointed out, rinsing his plate and fork.

"True. But the place was cleaner than a hospital. All we found were a few paint flecks and some dust bunnies."

"Does the paint match the vic's apartment?"

Lindsay gave him a wry look. "It matches the paint at the suspect's office." Pulling a face, he finished his dishes and took hers. "You don't have to—"

"Go sit. You need a break," he told her with a small smile.

Unable to resist, she rested her cheek against his shoulder blade for a moment, loving the feel of his muscles moving beneath his button down. Then she pulled away with a contented sigh. "Thanks," she said, picking up the bottle of wine.

"Anytime, Montana."

Shuffling to the couch, Lindsay sank into the cushions with a muffled groan. A few moments later, she heard the water turn off and Danny moving around in the kitchen. Then he was settling into the cushions next to her, leaving their wine glasses on the coffee table next to the discarded bottle.

Letting her head roll on the back of the couch, she smiled at him. "Hey."

He grinned slightly at her, amusement shining in his eyes behind his glasses. "Hey."

He raised his arm to lay it along the back of the couch and she swung her legs up to rest over his lap. Thoughtlessly, his fingers wound themselves through her hair as his other hand rested on her calf, thumb rubbing odd circles on the fabric of her pants.

"Tired?" he murmured, the fingers in her hair sliding down to her cheek.

"No, just relaxed."

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch, still so new and exciting. Just the tips of his fingers touched her, lightly running up and down her cheek, then down to her neck. When they settled on her chin and gently tilted her head up to him, she braced herself for the feel of his lips on hers.

It wasn't something she could really prepare herself for, the rush of sensation even such a light touch from him caused. His lips brushed hers, back and forth, before his mouth settled down for a serious kiss.

Lifting a languid hand, Lindsay found his cheek and stroked him there before sliding that hand around his neck. She pulled him closer and he came willingly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

It was gentle, tender, almost chaste really. And Lindsay needed more.

Pressing her breasts against his chest, she tightened her arm around his neck and swept her tongue across his bottom lip. He groaned and the sound seemed to ignite something. Suddenly, he was pulling her up onto his lap and tunneling his fingers through her curls.

His mouth was hard on hers, hard enough to bruise, even as his lips opened to her and her tongue licked inside. His hands roamed over her back, moving from her neck, to her hips and back again.

What had been a slow burning in the pit of her stomach transformed to a hot itch that spread across the entirety of her skin. Her swollen breasts rubbed against his chest as his arms tightened around her, but it wasn't enough. She needed more contact.

Slyly, her fingers slid down the buttons at his neck. When he didn't immediately move, she began slipping them through their holes all the way down the front of his shirt. Feeling victorious when she finished, she pulled the shirttails from his waistband and nearly groaned in relief as he helped her slide the offending garment off.

Eagerly, she brought her hands back to his chest. She made an annoyed noise in her throat when her hands met more cotton and she quickly pulled that loose as well. They broke apart as he whipped the tank top over his head and then he was back at her mouth, which was where she needed him most.

Her hands slid almost reverently over the exposed skin. It was the farthest he'd ever let them go and Lindsay felt giddy with her new freedom. A groan vibrated through his chest, and his tongue turned rough on hers.

Her hands explored the skin of his back, which was so silky she found it strange on such a masculine creature, incongruous. She skimmed her fingers up along his spine until she reached his neck and shoulders, then up and over she trailed them, so softly she was sure it had to tickle a little, to meet his chest. She wanted to grin in victory when she felt his fingers clench where they rested on her waist.

Then her cell rang and vibrated on the table.

Danny pulled his mouth away and she dropped her head to his shoulder. "No," she groaned as he leaned over to pick up the phone.

He pressed it into her hand and she lifted her head. "Thanks," she muttered, flipping it open.

"Monroe," she answered, trying not to sound breathless.

"Lindsay, sorry to call on your night off," Mac began on the other end.

Stifling a sigh, Lindsay eased away from Danny, keeping her eyes from resting on him. If she looked directly at him and all his soft, soft skin, she had a feeling she'd never be able to leave.

"It's all right. What's up?"

"DB over on Park and 32nd. Hawkes'll meet you there with your kits."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her and jotted down the full address. "Got it."

"Call me when you know something," Mac told her.

"Will do. Bye."

When she looked up, Danny was already tucking his oxford back in. She wanted to groan or sob—she wasn't sure which—but had too much pride to do more than sigh.

"I'm sorry," she said, running a hand through her hair and standing while she glanced around for her shoes.

Danny smirked. "Not your fault." She threw him a rueful grin. "He gonna be calling me?" Danny asked, watching as she slipped her heels back on.

"No, I'm with Hawkes. So, unless we get another one, I'd say you're home free."

"Lucky me," he muttered.

She sent him a commiserating glance and started to step past him. Reaching for her, he caught her and wrapped an arm around her back. He bent her back and latched his mouth onto hers.

His tongue swept across her lips and she opened on a gasp, moaning as he filled her mouth. She felt her bones turning to liquid even as her fingers clutched at the collar of his shirt. When he righted her and took his mouth away, she stayed leaning against him for a long while, trying to will her knees back into existence.

"That was just mean," she muttered, her face still buried in his shirt front. His chuckle reverberated through his chest, vibrating against her skin through the fabric.

"Just thought I'd leave you with something to think about," he teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

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Danny seemed to be able to turn off the heat between them at work. While she was aware he had never truly treated her as simply a coworker, she also recognized the distance he placed between them in the lab. She was sure no one could guess they were dating. Unless Flack or Hawkes told them, of course.

It was nice that he gave her this space. She knew he was instinctively protecting her from speculation and the rumor mill. His behavior indicated a level of respect for her that made her throat close convulsively when he smiled at her in passing.

The problem was she couldn't seem to turn it off. Every time he smiled at her, her knees would melt.

"Y'all right there?" Danny asked, not looking up from the elastic band he was processing.

"Yeah," she murmured, still staring at his profile.

"Then why are you staring at me?"

His eyes were locked on the elastic band, so it seemed all right to keep watching him. "I'm done," she said by way of an explanation.

He nodded absently. The thick December clouds were so heavy with snow that they hadn't seen the sun in a week. The dark light that it cast came in through the glass walls, casting weird shadows on the floor near the windows. Even with the gloom outside, he seemed to glow golden and she wondered how it was possible to look good under fluorescent lightbulbs.

Finally, he looked up and caught her staring at his arms. "Can I help you?" he asked, his voice low to avoid being heard outside of the lab.

Her eyes slowly trailed up to his, lingering over his chest and shoulders. When their gazes met, the heat flared between them and she watched his breath catch in his chest. Behind his glasses, the pupils dilated and she tried to take a deep breath as his eyes drifted to her lips.

"Three hours and twenty eight minutes," he muttered, dropping his eyes back to the elastic band.

"What?" she asked, breathless.

"Three hours and twenty eight—" he glanced at the clock, "twenty seven minutes until we get off."

They both froze, wide brown eyes locking on his blue ones. "Work," he added quickly. "Get off work."

Disappointment rushed through her. He was still holding himself back from that final step. Considering her boyfriend was notorious for being a ladies' man, Lindsay was a bit bitter that he refused to have sex with her.

Refuse was the wrong word, she knew. He was simply desperately avoiding it. The closest he'd let them come was her bra coming off the previous evening and even then he'd pulled away, asking if she was hungry, his voice cracking a bit.

She understood the convoluted reason why he was doing it, and she'd accepted the sweetness behind the gesture. But he was her boyfriend and she had assumed she'd be able to change his mind fairly easily.

To her chagrin, he remained both unmoved and far too attached to his pants.

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"You two still haven't had sex?" Jen finally surmised, quite shrilly.

Lindsay shushed her as the other shoppers turned to stare. "Thanks."

"Sorry, but…Are you serious?"

"Of course, I'm serious."

"You've spent practically every moment together for the past month."

"Yeah, I know, it's strange. Why do you think I'm talking to you about this?"

Jen shrugged, but otherwise ignored the question. "You do…I mean, you make out, right?"

"Yes. Very much so. We just haven't…"

"Ah." She nodded vigorously to show she understood. "So what's stopping you?"

"I don't know," Lindsay wailed. "He keeps saying he wants to go slow. And every time we get close, he stops. He has, like, superhuman control."

"He's the one stopping you?" Jen asked incredulously.

"Yes," Lindsay whimpered.

"But he's…Messer. He's had sex with half of New York."

"Thank you. I'm quite aware of the situation," Lindsay snapped.

Jen stopped in her tracks and studied Lindsay's face. "Not the situation, Linds. The past. His past."

Sighing, Lindsay rubbed her forehead. "That's the problem, I think. His past. He wants to prove to me I'm different."

"So instead of having sex with his girlfriend, he runs when you get close? That's his big plan to prove you're special?"

"No," Lindsay said, shaking her head almost violently. "Well, kinda. He's trying to show me he's not coming around for sex."

"What a brilliant plan," Jen muttered

"It's kind of sweet," Lindsay said, her voice dreamy and breathy. "I mean, he has this amazing passion and he—"

"Okay, tmi."

"He's trying to prove himself to me. But he's already done that a hundred times over," Lindsay told Jen, frustration making her grip the sweater so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Have you tried talking to him?" When Lindsay glared at her, Jen back peddled. "Of course you have. Have you tried seducing him?"

Lindsay's jaw dropped. "Have you lost your mind?"

"What?" Jen asked, confused.

"How am I supposed to do that? I'd look like an idiot."

"Only if you wear an anime costume," Jen said, still confused.

"So, I do what? Prance around in a negligee and heels?"

"Why not?"

"Because I'd look stupid," she burst out. "He dates women like you. Women who could be models. Tall women with long legs and big boobs. Me in a negligee is not going to compare. My underwear doesn't even match, Jen."

Jen blinked at her before glancing at the now-staring patrons of the store. Taking Lindsay's arm, she led her further into the racks. "Lindsay, Danny's not going to be comparing you to anybody," she assured her friend gently.

"Yes he is," Lindsay said tonelessly. "It's just human nature."

"He loves you," Jen argued. "You've gotten more of him than any of those models ever did."

"Maybe he doesn't want to sleep with me. Maybe my breasts aren't big enough to turn him on." Lindsay's eyes were wide with horror.

Determinedly, Jen grabbed Lindsay's shoulders. "Lindsay. He's making out with you on a regular basis. And, frankly, he's a man. He wants to sleep with you."

"I'm going crazy," Lindsay muttered.

"Yes. This is what no sex does to you."

Lindsay snorted. "Then I would have gone crazy long ago."

"Really?" Jen raised her eyebrows. "No nookie for you, eh?"

"Not for a long time."

At Lindsay's bowed head and vague answer, Jen seemed to grow suspicious. "How long?"

"None of your business," Lindsay tried.

"How long?"

She sighed. "Three years."

"It's been three years since you've had sex?" The look of abject horror on Jen's face was amusing if not comforting.

"Yes, three years."

"Three years?" Jen asked, as if she was sure she'd misunderstood.

"Not since right after Connor." Jen's eyes widened and Lindsay wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

"Connor? As in, older brother's best friend, ex-fiancé Connor?"

"Yes."

"Connor who broke every speed limit to get to your hospital bedside?"

Confused now at Jen's shock, Lindsay folded her arms over her chest. "Yes."

"Connor the most beautiful man ever created, Connor?"

Blinking, Lindsay tilted her head to the side. "What now?"

Jen smirked at her. "Come on. You're not blind. And, apparently, you've slept with him."

Lindsay pictured Connor, never really having thought about him that way before. She supposed with his dark Irish looks, he was a pretty specimen. And maybe if she hadn't grown up with him she would have noticed at some point. Instead, sex with Connor had been anticipated with reluctance and left her feeling a bit dirty.

Shaking her head to clear it, she refocused on Jen. "Why does this surprise you? You knew I was engaged to him."

"Yes, but you said you didn't love him. You just don't seem like the type to have casual sex."

"It wasn't casual sex. We were engaged, remember?" Lindsay reminded her yet again.

"Yes, I remember. You were engaged. Got it. But you didn't love him." Jen shrugged. "I'm just surprised, that's all."

"He thought I was in love with him," Lindsay explained with a wince. "I had to."

Jen's mouth opened then snapped shut again. Picking up a shirt, she examined it carefully, as if she was taking stock of the thread count. Finally, she sighed and tossed it back on the rack.

"Lindsay, sex shouldn't be like that. It shouldn't be something you have to do."

"I know," Lindsay said, surprised. "What's wrong?"

Jen bit her lip and looked around them before asking softly, "Is this why you want to have sex with Danny? Do you feel like you have to?"

Eyes wide, Lindsay stared at her, slack jawed. After a moment, she laughed. "Are you serious?" When Jen just stared at her, the laugh trailed away. "Jesus, you're serious."

"It's just…the way you said that…" Jen paused, fingering the material of a blouse. "Have you ever enjoyed sex?"

Lindsay's eyes flitted around to make sure no one was in earshot. "Do we have to have this conversation in Jeremy's?"

"Apparently," Jen said, eyeing the blouse with disgust and dropping in back on the pile.

Distinctly uncomfortable, Lindsay lowered her voice to a whisper. "Sure, I've enjoyed it."

"But you've only slept with one guy since Connor," Jen murmured back.

"Quality, not quantity."

Jen shot her a disbelieving look. "And how many times did you sleep with this guy?"

Eyes sliding away, Lindsay picked up a cardigan and barely glanced at the price tag before putting it back down. "Why are we in here again?"

"I need something to wear when Adam and I go to dinner. Stop changing the subject."

"I don't know. A few times."

"So, after Connor, with whom sex made you feel dirty," Lindsay blinked at the accurate description. "You had sex with one guy a few times."

"That about sums it up," Lindsay muttered, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So you've never actually enjoyed sex," Jen surmised. She stopped to look around the store. "You know what, forget this. Let's go to Bloomingdale's."

"All right," Lindsay said with an awkward shrug. When they were back on the noisy street, Lindsay sighed. "No, I've never really enjoyed sex. At first, I thought it was just because it was Connor."

"He didn't know what he was doing?"

"No, he did. That was pretty obvious. But I could never really relax. I just figured out what he liked and went with it."

Jen nodded as they moved to the curb to hail a cab. "But then you slept with the other guy."

"And I realized I just didn't like it."

The cab pulled up next to them and Jen opened the door waiting for Lindsay to slide inside before following. "Bloomingdale's, please. But you think you'd like it with Danny?"

Effectively having forgotten the driver's silent existence, Lindsay smiled wickedly at Jen. "Well, yeah."

"That good, huh?" Jen said with a similar grin.

"Better," Lindsay countered on a sigh. "How's Adam?"

Bitterness crept over Jen's features. "I have no idea."

Blinking, Lindsay sat up from her slump against the seat. "But you're going to dinner. I thought he'd made his move."

"He did," Jen assured her then pulled a face. "Kind of. He asked me out."

"But he's never made a move," Lindsay concluded, glancing out the front window as she thought. "He's really shy."

"Tell me about it." Jen let her head fall back against the seat as she groaned. After a minute of silence, she raised her head with a sigh. "Look, about Danny."

Lindsay turned to face her and furrowed her brow. "Yeah?"

"Give him time." At the look of confusion on Lindsay's face, Jen nodded. "I know. You want him now. But if he wants to wait, let him build up to it. This is the best part, Linds, the anticipation."

Wrinkling her nose, Lindsay looked away. "And he's not comfortable yet."

"The hickey on your neck last week says otherwise."

Gasping, Lindsay whirled to face her best friend. "That was not a hickey."

"Sure it wasn't," Jen said soothingly, and Lindsay rolled her eyes. "The point is that he doesn't feel as if he's proven himself to you. Apparently, he doesn't feel good enough to have you."

"But that's ridiculous," Lindsay started, only to fall quiet when Jen shrugged helplessly at her.

"Don't tell me this. I already know. You have to show him."

Lindsay nodded, mulling over Jen's words. Then her eyes narrowed at her friend. "A negligee will not help with this."

"No, a negligee will not help with this," Jen agreed. "Though I'd like to point out that this is the only case in which that holds true."

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Kavi Leighanna: Lindsay's a little stubborn. Hehe. I hope you enjoy the last two chapters!

ReJo: Poor Lindsay. She puts herself out there and then doesn't even get to jump him!

scoob2222: Adam totally needs some lovin'. Though he seems to be screwing with Jen's mind at this point.

Tenley: Poor Danny was just in a bit of shock. He probably thought he was dreaming (again). Yeah, luckily guys don't dwell on things like women do. If it had been Stella there, she never would have turned her attention back to the game like the guys did. She'd keep winking at Lindsay or watching them with a gooey expression. Lindsay should thank her lucky stars it was just Flack and Hawkes. :-p Isn't woolgathering great? That and hootenanny. Those words should be used so much more.

silverjazz: The next story is definitely DL with a bit of AJ thrown in. Don't worry. I can't seem to stop writing DL. I can't believe tomorrow is the season finale! I don't want to go into the Dark Period of summer with no CSI:NY to get me through. Sadness. This episode better not end with a DL split. That would piss me off. :-p

TBD: Now if only Danny would just get down to business. Poor Lindsay.

sp4zstyck: I'm so glad you like the story! Wow, I can't believe you read 20 chapters in one sitting. You're hardcore. :-p Just one more chapter of this one left and then it's on to the third story! I hope you decide to keep reading, despite my propensity for angst.

Devilla: DL loving coming right up! I decided that Lindsay had to be the one to tell Danny she was ready because, really, he put himself out there so many times. It was her turn. Or maybe I'm just vengeful?

ParisTorres05: I'm so glad you're enjoying the series! I hope you decide to stick around for the third part.

RachelHeidi: Yeah, there's not much I wouldn't do to Danny either, though Greg still holds the majority of my heart. Adam really does seem to throw Jen for a loop. He almost seems suave compared to her. (Dude, I've got the hose covered. We just have to find a spigot near their lawn. And I'm a master at covering the nozzle to widen the spray, so it'll take half the time to wet the TP.) One more chapter on this story and then it's own to Erase and Rewind. (What do you think of the title? I'm still trying it out.)

messermonroe: Thanks for the e-hug! That last chapter was so exciting to write. I've decided that I love fluff almost as much as I love angst. :-p I think just standing near Danny has Lindsay ready to tear her clothes off. There will be one more epic sequel, but then I've decided to stop torturing my characters and leave them with the chance for happily ever after.

Quintessence of Darkness: Seriously, how could Adam not be interested in Jen? She's beautiful, she's nice, and she's made it quite obvious she thinks he's the cat's pajamas. Any man would fall on his knees. Er, except Danny.

Muzzy-Olorea: I'm glad you liked the speech. It was difficult to delineate in words how Lindsay feels about Danny, you know? So, I'm glad it turned out well.

seren23: Hehe. I'm glad you liked the humor in that scene. Homer Simpson? Hahahaha. Thank god she didn't bring doughnuts with her. And that dog was so cute, but I always wondered where he got the dog. Eek! Don't get dragged away from Push Me! (Though I do understand the Too Many Fandoms sentiment.)

serenity2bliss: Don Flack, King of Tact. Hehe. Though he seemed to take it much more in stride than Hawkes did, poor guy. Hawkes always seems to get caught in the middle. Danny really is sweet, though he's being pretty infuriating right now. It's funny but the way Lindsay and Danny have played out their courting makes even holding hands this huge deal for them. It's so sweet and kind of pure, you know? It's almost too bad they want to tear each other's clothes off. :-p

Kaoli: I'm glad you like the fluffiness! I've realized that I'm as much a sucker for fluff as I am for angst. So the next chapter might be a bit cloying in its saccharine sweetness. :-p However, I have no regrets!

CarolinaH.Manning: I like how Danny knew that Flack and Hawkes were there but he still kissed her like there was no tomorrow. I'm trying to write out a scene with Adam as the main focus, but I keep going back to Jen's point of view. However, I can assure you there will be a scene between Adam and Jen—alone—in the next chapter.

chili-peppers: I'm glad you liked it! It was almost a relief to write such a fluffy chapter after all this angst. Though Lindsay's monologue was difficult.

The Little Corinthian: Hot DL lovin' in the next chapter. I promise. Though the M version will be posted on my livejournal rather than on this site. There better be some good DL moments in the season finale. Or Bruckheimer will feel my wrath. I'm just sayin'.

qt4good: Sorry, the way I picture Danny's apartment (and this is probably nothing like how they showed it in the episode, I can't remember) is that there's a small hallway leading into an open kitchen/dining room/ living room area. So Lindsay couldn't see Hawkes and Flack because she stalled out in the hallway. (shrugs) Yes, the vase was humiliating for Jen, but she rallied! And he examined her arm to make sure she was okay!

scoj: Hehe. Only one more chapter now. But not to worry! This story continues in the next fic, which should be up in a couple of weeks. I want to finish the first few chapters (and decide on a title) before I start posting.

Od: Yay! I'm glad you liked the fluffy! More in the next chapter!

probysgirl: More AJ and DL in the next chapter. And then it's on to the third and final fic in this trilogy, which delves into Danny's past. (That was amazingly accurate of you, are you perhaps clairvoyant?)

daytimedrama: And here is your update. Your review actually got my butt in gear. I'd been sitting around with bits and pieces of this chapter, wondering how I was going to sew it all together and then your review pops up. And I realized that I just had to tackle it or nothing was ever going to get done. And, voila! Chapter.

berta101: I can't wait for the finale either. They have to give us DL there right? I mean, their arc was a major subplot of the season, TPTB can't just ignore it. Can they? (starts to worry)

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A.N. All right, one more chapter to go!


	22. Chapter 22

A.N. If you'd like to read the M-rated version of this chapter, check out my livejournal. There's a link on my profile, but here's the url: astrodevi. (Though this one is kind of bending the rating as is.) Also, this is my first try at smut, so please be kind. Please?

Thanks to everyone who stuck with this fic and read it to the not-so-bitter end! You definitely made completing this possible.

On a side note, I should have the first chapter of Erase and Rewind up in the next week or so.

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"All right," Freddy said, raising his two fingers of whisky. Danny and Lindsay followed suit, exchanging amused glances. "To Lindsay."

"Oh God," Lindsay muttered, dropping her forehead into her other hand. Danny just laughed.

"My favorite niece."

"I'm your only niece," she reminded him as he and Danny sipped their drinks.

"Good thing," Freddy said mildly. "You've given me enough gray hairs for three."

Rolling her eyes, Lindsay lifted her wine to her lips. "Enough about me, I wanna hear about you."

"Nothing much to report," he argued with a lazy smile. "The planning for the Galapagos trip is under way. But other than that, I've just been enjoying my time in the city."

Lindsay scoffed. "You hate the city." His gaze slid up to hers and held it for several intense seconds.

"You're seeing somebody, aren't you?" Lindsay asked as Freddy looked away.

He nodded once. "Yes."

"Is it serious?" she asked, surprised to have gotten this much information out of him.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Would I be telling you if it wasn't?"

"I knew it." Lindsay leaned forward excitedly as Danny shook his head in amusement. "Who is she?"

Freddy looked up and met her eyes, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. She wrinkled her brow at him, about to laugh at his seeming hesitation, when she got it.

The smile was dying from Lindsay's face as she spoke. "Freddy, she's married."

"Stay out of it, Linny," he told her, lifting his whisky and sipping the drink. His eyes never left hers.

"She's married," Lindsay hissed, unable to step beyond that concept. Freddy shrugged and drained his glass. "What were you thinking?"

Freddy looked away to signal a waitress with his empty glass. Shaking her head in disbelief, Lindsay tried to make sense of what Freddy was wordlessly telling her. He couldn't be having an affair with Marilee. Her father and husband were on the board of directors for the magazine. Worse, she was married to that husband, happily as far as the rest of New York knew. She had kids.

"I can't believe this," she whispered, staring at the table.

Danny placed a hand on her back and moved closer. "Lindsay—"

Her head jerked up to him and he leaned back, shocked at the expression on her face. Then she turned glittering eyes on her uncle.

"You have to stop this, Freddy," she told him, ignoring the irritated noise he made. "You're better than this."

"Better than what?" Freddy asked. "Better than being with the woman I love?"

Lindsay gave him a disgusted expression. "Sometimes, Freddy, it's not all about you."

Standing, she grabbed her purse and began maneuvering her way through the crowded bar. Outside in the cold December air, she remembered her jacket but was too upset to care about the goosebumps rising on her arms. She paced, trying to assimilate what she'd just learned with the facts she knew about her uncle.

Abruptly, the door swung open, and Danny shot out of the bar. When he spotted her, he stumbled to a stop, her jacket in one hand, his in the other.

"Don't do that to me," he snapped.

She ignored him, still pacing the sidewalk. "How could he do this?"

Throwing his hands up in a show of exasperation, Danny glanced around as if looking for a way out of the situation. Then, taking a deep breath, he moved forward to catch her arm.

"Put on your jacket. It's freezing out here."

Silently, she took it from him and slipped it on. She stood afterwards, her eyes following the movements of his hands as he slid his own over his shoulders. But when he reached for her, she spun away. She heard him let out a groan as she stalked a few feet down the sidewalk only to stop, staring blindly into the dark.

"What were you guys talking about in there?"

Clearing her throat, Lindsay didn't bother turning around. "Marilee. The woman he was engaged to."

"Okay," Danny said slowly. "I don't get it. What's the big—"

"She's married, Danny. She has kids. And he's been seeing her anyway."

"Lindsay—"

"Don't."

She knew what he was going to say, that these things happen. That she couldn't control Freddy any more than she could control a hurricane. She knew because she'd told herself the same things while she waited for him, and the words changed nothing.

"Why are you so upset about this?" Danny asked, managing to sound both annoyed and completely confused.

Lindsay whirled on him with righteous fire. "You condone his behavior?"

"Of course I don't condone it," he yelled back. "It's a shitty move. But I don't get how it's any of your business who he sees."

"He's my hero, Danny!"

As the words left her mouth, he took a step back, his face shocked into neutrality. Lindsay raised her hands to her face and tried to get herself under control.

"Ever since I was a kid—" She stopped, swallowing and wrapping her arms around herself. "I wanted to be just like him."

Danny's face softened into pity as she lifted her gaze to his. "All my life, I've tried to be just like him. And now I find out…this?" She shook her head. "What if I was wrong about him?"

Striding forward, Danny gripped her arms. "Lindsay, no one is perfect."

"I never thought he was," she whispered, reaching up to roughly swipe at her eyes. "But there are certain things you just don't do."

He started to speak again, but she cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "We can do that."

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"He called for all three of us?" Lindsay said to Hawkes as Danny pulled up next to them in another of the lab's SUVs.

"Mac said it's pretty bad," Hawkes told her in his usual composed way.

"Yo," Danny called, slamming the car door behind him. The antithesis of Hawkes's serenity with his big grin and loud voice.

"You always have to make an entrance, don't you Messer?" Hawkes asked with a smile.

Danny smirked, unrepentant as he moved to the back of his SUV. "I don't gotta try, peaches."

"You just keep telling yourself that."

"Jealous cuz I'm prettier than you?" Danny shot back at Hawkes as he slammed the backdoor. Lindsay couldn't help the grin that spread across her face at the verbal volleyball and smiled at him as Danny came up next to her. "Hey, Montana."

She started to answer, but Mac had stepped out of the house and was waiting for them to file up to him. "You'll need to cover your shoes," he said when they started to climb the front steps.

Setting their kits down on the porch, they pulled out the blue covers and stepped into them as Mac spoke. "Hawkes, I want you processing the downstairs. Stella started with the backrooms, so if you could take the front and work towards the stairs—"

"I'm on it, Mac," he said, taking his kit and stepping inside.

"Danny, Lindsay, come with me."

Exchanging a glance with Danny, Lindsay followed Mac up the stairs to the second floor. He paused outside of a door, blocking their view in the small hallway. His face was grim as he turned to confront them.

"It's gruesome," Mac told them. "But we already have the guy. He confessed to Angell ten minutes ago. Keep that in mind while you process."

The warning didn't bode well. It wasn't like Mac to offer comfort before they'd even seen the evidence. Lindsay swallowed as Mac took a step back and gestured for her to proceed Danny inside.

Mac had told them it was gruesome. Gruesome Lindsay could handle. This was worse.

Two bodies, neither over the age of ten, in two distinct pools of blood.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Lindsay whispered, eyeing the patterns of blood that had obviously been smeared around the room by a human hand.

Her eyes flicked to Danny who looked completely blank, his face having shut down when he stepped in the room. Glancing back at Mac, she clung to the last shred of her professional objectivity.

"Are they coming for the bodies?"

"Any minute now. The ME's stuck in traffic. Just work around them until he gets here."

"Right," she said, turning back to the scene as Mac walked away. Danny had stepped up to the door and was raising his camera.

She began to do the same, bending to set her kit on the floor just outside the room. Startled, she stopped, staring towards the pools of blood.

"What's up?" Danny asked, pausing to look at her.

"They're not wearing underwear," she whispered, still staring.

Danny automatically followed her gaze, his muscles freezing as he saw what she had. His jaw clenched and he jerkily turned back to the door. "Sonuvabitch," she heard him mutter, snapping a photo with a vicious flick of his finger.

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Jen sat on the couch, head in her hands, trying to force the images out of her brain. All she could see were the mangled little bodies, the tiny peaceful faces. How anyone could do that to children was beyond her.

It was almost dark outside, but she had yet to turn on the lights in her apartment, craving the darkness. Maybe in the darkness, the pictures would fade.

The sound of the traffic down below was just white noise to her after a lifetime in the city, so the abrupt buzz at her intercom shocked her. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she put a hand over her heart and tried to get her breath back. The buzz came again, but she ignored it, not expecting anyone and not feeling up to convincing a stranger they had the wrong address.

Rubbing her temples, she gave a sigh of relief when the buzz didn't repeat a third time. She collapsed back against the couch, sniffling and willing the pressure behind her eyes to desist. She wasn't a crier, never had been. She didn't cry when they found Abby, she wouldn't cry this time.

She didn't know how much time passed before she heard the knocking on her door. Wondering whether or not the buzzs had been a mistake, she stared at the door without moving. Then the knock came again, louder this time, and she realized she wouldn't be getting any peace until this person went away.

Shoving herself up from the couch, she slowly moved towards the door, dabbing at her face to make sure the tears hadn't escaped. She took a deep breath and leaned against the door to look through the peephole, freezing as she recognized Adam on the other side.

Leaning back, she stared at the door again, shocked and dismayed. Her luck with Adam just seemed to keep getting worse. She always managed to run into him at her lowest points.

Closing her eyes, she flipped the locks and slid the chain free, taking another deep breath before pulling the door open. Adam looked up as she did, offering her a small smile. "Hey," he murmured, shifting the bag he held from one hand to the other.

"Hi," she said, staring hungrily at him. She'd never been so grateful to see anyone in her life. "Come on in."

He slipped past her and waited as she closed and locked the door. "I brought dinner." She opened her mouth, but he raised a hand to stall her response. "I know you're not hungry, but you need to eat."

She smiled wanly. "I was going to say thank you."

"Oh." Obviously having expected an argument, he floundered for a moment before turning towards the kitchen. "I'll just grab some forks."

Leaving him to search through her kitchen for utensils, she moved back to the couch, this time turning on a few lamps as she went. Hearing him find the right drawer behind her, she ran a hand through her long hair, grimacing when she hit a snarl. Quickly, she grabbed the hair band she'd been wearing earlier and pulled her hair into a messy bun.

He sat next to her a few moments later, placing the forks and bag on the coffee table in front of them. Then he turned to face her and leaned against the back of the couch, just watching her with an understanding expression.

He was so good he seemed almost innocent, though she'd never met a twenty nine year old man who was. After a lifetime of catching criminals, first vicariously through her father's stories, then on her own, Adam was like a balm over a battered soul. She could say anything, figuring he was too nice to think she was weak for crying.

"Messer once told me that you never get used to kids," Jen said, staring down at her lap.

"How anyone can do that to children is beyond me," he murmured, shaking his head and reaching for his beer.

Hearing her own thoughts repeated to her, Jen looked up with shining eyes. Adam lowered the bottle and set it aside, his own face sympathetic. When he reached up to cup her face, she let her eyelids drift shut and the tears coursed down her cheeks.

Easing closer, he gently pulled her head down to rest in the crook of his neck before wrapping his arms around her. Sniffling, she buried her face against him, her fingers coming up to clench in the fabric of his tshirt over his chest.

"I couldn't even do anything," she whispered brokenly. "The sonuvabitch walked right into the station and confessed."

"He'll still pay," he told her, rubbing a hand down her back in small circles.

"I know. But I wanted to throw him against a wall when I cuffed him. Or something."

She felt Adam chuckle, his muscles vibrating her since she was pressed so close. Giving a watery smile, she eased back, suddenly very aware of the position she'd maneuvered them into.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to get you all wet," she said, brushing vaguely at the teardrops clinging to his shirt.

"Don't worry about it."

She was startled when his fingers came up to brush back the loose bits of hair stuck to her wet face. Wide eyes flew up to his and her heart kicked into overdrive as she noted the serious expression in his eyes. He didn't say anything, didn't move, but her heart gave one hard throb before sprinting ahead.

He stared so intently that she wondered if he was trying to memorize her face as it was in that moment. Self-consciously, she let her eyes drop to the few inches of couch between their thighs. Her mind raced, desperately trying to come up with something witty to say, something that would diffuse the situation.

After a moment, satisfied she could hide what she was feeling, she looked up and opened her mouth to speak. He had a wry grin on his face and he shook his head just slightly, silencing her unspoken words.

Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned forward and gently caressed her lips with his. It was only for an instant, and he was gone so fast she was afraid she might have dreamt it.

Then he was moving away again. "You ready to eat?" he asked, leaning over to the coffee table.

"Nuh," she said with her usual wit and spark.

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It had been a horrible week that ended with the two of them standing together outside the courthouse, waiting to hear his plea of guilt. They couldn't touch, Lindsay knew, but she desperately wanted to take his hand.

Afterwards, they made their way back to her apartment as they had nearly every night for the past week. Danny waited patiently as she unlocked the door and led him inside. He brushed past her as she pushed the door closed. Turning back, she saw him tiredly shedding his jacket and tossing it on the back of her couch.

Sliding her own off, she watched him move into the kitchen, unerringly open the right cabinet and reach in for a glass. As he poured himself some water, she dropped her coat on the table in the hallway, eyes never leaving him.

Taking a sip, he leaned tiredly back against her counter and looked up as she walked towards him. Gaze locked on hers, he set his glass behind him. He never blinked as she stepped close enough to wrap one hand around his neck and pull his face down to hers.

She caressed his lips with hers, gently and slowly, wanting him to feel all the things she felt. He let her have the control, not touching her except with his lips. She trailed her other hand up his arm and across his chest. She let it rest above his heart, feeling it beat against her fingers, and deepened the kiss. Sliding her tongue against his bottom lip, she barely kept herself from moaning as his mouth let her inside and his tongue touched hers.

Her knees were starting to give, but she didn't want to stop. Pressing closer, she clenched her fingers in his shirt and molded her body to his. Finally, he moved, wrapping an arm around her lower back to anchor her against his body. Slowly, like they were dancing, he turned them and pushed her against the counter.

And then slow wasn't enough anymore. Grabbing his collar, she jerked even closer and managed to smash her face against his. The lack of finesse made her want to disappear, but he didn't even pause, seamlessly shifting to make the new position more comfortable.

His hands slipped under her shirt and flattened against the skin of her back. Warm tingles spread through her, tingles that turned into a burning trail when his tongue swept back over hers.

Winding her arms tightly around his neck, she tunneled the fingers of one hand through his hair. His hands streaked across her skin, moving down to her thighs. Then he lifted her and set her on the counter so she was scant inches above him.

It was too much, and she found herself pulling away after a moment. Her fingers were clenched in the fabric at his back and in his hair, but she couldn't make them relax. Her breath was coming so fast she was a little worried about hyperventilating.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, as breathless as she.

She couldn't think of anything to say, but managed to make her fingers release their death grip on his hair and shirt. Her lips parted and no words came out. Danny, still gulping breaths, reached up and brushed a curl out of her face then rested his forehead against hers for a long moment.

It was small, something that if it hadn't been Danny she probably wouldn't have noticed, but it made her heart skip a beat and a sweet twisting feeling spread through her chest. When his head rose to look at her again, she felt her lips curl in a small smile.

"Nothing." She leaned down. "Nothing at all," she murmured against his mouth, her hand gently massaging his neck.

He responded eagerly and the slow burn began in her stomach again. When he started to pull away as he usually did, Lindsay tightened her grip on him and gentled her mouth. She brushed her lips against his lightly, persuading him to stay with her for just a little while longer.

So he did, the kiss no longer fueled by hot flames but a warmer, all-encompassing heat. His mouth slid smoothly over hers, his hands cupping her face as if to hold her there.

But, after a heavenly moment, he eased back like he always did. "Lindsay, we gotta stop."

"Why?" she asked, sliding from the counter to follow his retreat. He stopped when he hit the stove, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why do we have to stop?"

"Because," he said, dropping his arms to run a hand over his face. "You and me…We should be…" Frustration marred his features. "We should be more than what's in that bedroom."

Uncertain how this was about to play out, Lindsay laid a hand on his chest. "We already are, Danny. But could we be at least that?"

He looked away, but she'd seen the flicker of longing on his face. She pressed forward, determined to convince him this time.

"Please, Danny," Lindsay whispered, her fingers moving down his buttons. "I know you want to prove I'm special but you already have."

His eyes came back to hers and the look in them stole her breath. She met him halfway as he leaned down for a kiss. A serious kiss where his lips slid smoothly over hers. "Lindsay—" he began, trying to pull away.

She stopped him with a hand on his cheek. "You flew across the country for me. You waited even when I told you not to."

Each sentence was followed by a kiss to the skin of his shoulders, chest, as she uncovered it. Slowly, she slid the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.

"You brought me dinner when I was sick," she continued in a whisper, afraid she'd break the spell that was holding him still.

"Lindsay—" he said again, his voice less than a breath.

"You put up with my crazy family, stood up to my brother, my uncle. You fought me when I needed it and held me when I didn't."

Up went the tank top he wore and his arms helped her pull it off. As she dropped it beside them, his hands cupped her face.

"Lindsay—" he tried a third time, his face soft.

In that moment, she knew he'd never looked at another woman the way he looked at her, and it gave her the courage to finish.

"You show me every day how you feel. Every day for the last year. It's my turn, Danny," she said, running her hands down his arms, feeling the muscles shake there. "Let me show you how special you are."

Rising on her toes, she brushed her lips over his, lightly, tenderly. She wanted to kiss him how he'd never been kissed before. Maybe she succeeded because she felt something break in him, his hands turning rough as they tugged her shirt up her body. She pulled back to let him whip it over her head.

Before she could take a breath, his mouth was on hers and her bra was disappearing down her arms. He walked her backwards out of the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom. All the while, his tongue invaded her mouth, his hands streaked over her back.

Abruptly, the backs of her legs bumped into the bed and they halted, though their hands and mouths still grasped at each other. Danny's arm came around her to pull her chest against his even as his other hand came up to flick open the button on her jeans.

Encouraged, she tangled her fingers in his waistband, yanking his hips against hers. He groaned and ripped his mouth away as their bodies met.

"Lindsay, I'm sorry. This isn't going to last very long," he said, starting to push her pants down her legs.

"I don't care. I just need you inside me. Now," she stressed, silently cursing the inventor of his belt as the finicky buckle stuck.

He mumbled something in Italian that sounded particularly dirty and let go of her pants to push her hands away from his buckle. Panic filled her at the thought that he was stopping things again—what did she do wrong?—but then he was shoving her backwards onto the bed.

She bounced on the mattress then started to struggle out of the pants trapped around the tops of her thighs. With them halfway down her legs, she made the mistake of looking up at him and was instantly distracted by the rippling of the muscles under his skin. Her fingers stilled on the pants caught around her knees, her eyes locked on his chest.

Stepping out of the jeans, he kicked them aside and glanced up as he straightened. He frowned when he noticed her pants still halfway on. Then he saw her face.

A sly grin spread over his lips. "You need some help there?" he murmured, crawling partially onto the bed next to her.

Instead of answering, she sat up to meet him, his mouth catching hers as she pounced. Easing her further up the bed, he began to slide the pants off, his fingers gently brushing her skin all the way down her legs.

He leaned away to toss the pants over the side of the bed, but she didn't let him get far. As soon as he turned back, she wound her legs around him and pulled him down on top of her. The touch of his flesh on hers was searing, and his chest hair rasped against her breasts.

"Hey," he said with a breathless laugh.

"Hi." She smiled back at him, so happy he was there with her, smiling at her.

"I have to take these off," he muttered, reaching up a hand to pull of his glasses. As he stretched to put them on the night stand, she couldn't help but press an open mouthed kiss to his throat.

She felt both his body's reaction and his groan, so she did it again even when she heard the clatter of his glasses hitting the floor. "I'll get 'em later," he mumbled, rolling their bodies to the side and the moments passed in a blur of sensation.

He murmured to her in Italian as they moved together, forcing her past the boundaries she'd put up with previous lovers. She could feel him watching her the whole time, which should have made her feel self-conscious, but what he was doing felt so god she almost felt sick. He built the heat, banking it and then letting it roar again. Over and over until she thought she'd die before he was done.

When she finally came back to herself, she was panting in time with Danny, who'd collapsed on top of her at some point. She tried to speak, but settled for a sigh instead since her throat felt raw and dry.

At the sound, Danny stirred slightly. "You're going to kill me," he groaned, rolling slightly to the side and off of her.

She followed, wrapping a leg around his to keep him close. "I'm sorry," she responded unthinkingly.

He laughed as if he couldn't help it. "Not a problem, tesoro."

"What does that mean?" she asked sleepily, settling her head into the pillow a few inches from his chest.

He didn't answer and she took the silence as an opportunity to press a kiss to the skin in front of her. His muscles had tensed at her question, but she ignored that, liking the feel of his chest hair against her skin. Odd. She'd never much liked chest hair before.

"It's Italian," he said absently.

It took a moment to place what he was talking about and she entertained herself with lightly rubbing the tip of her nose against his skin before responding. "I guessed that much," she told him, brushing another soft kiss into his chest to soothe any sting her words might have caused.

He swallowed thickly and his arm tightened around her so it was no longer just draped over her. Pulling her closer, he bent and pressed his lips to her hair.

Content, Lindsay snuggled closer so she could lay her cheek against his chest and wrap her arm around his middle. It wasn't what she'd call comfortable—she'd wake up with a neck cramp and her arm would definitely fall asleep—but it was satisfying nonetheless.

Her eyes drifted shut to the rhythm of his heartbeat, calm now as they lay together. She let her thoughts drift as the constant double beat lulled her.

"Lindsay?" Danny murmured.

She shifted even closer, tightening her leg around his. "Mmm."

"I gotta get up," he said, sounding amused.

Ignoring that insane suggestion, she idly kissed his chest again. When his heart jumped a bit, she roused slightly from her doze. And when his hand stroked softly down her back, he had her full attention. Where did a man who worked in a lab get calluses?

"Lindsay," he drawled teasingly, more like he was persuading her this time.

Hiding a smirk, she buried her face against his chest. "Hmm?"

Languidly, she trailed her hand from his back around his side and up his chest. His fingers curled around her hip in reaction as he chuckled.

"You know, if I get up now—" He paused to bite at her ear. "I can come back much—" He breathed against her and goosebumps broke out over her skin. "Much faster."

Determined not to become embarrassing putty beside him, Lindsay shivered once then forced herself to still. "I don't know," she said warily. "It's so far away."

Shaking a little with suppressed laughter, Danny bit gently at the seam where her neck met her shoulder. Lindsay sighed and slid her leg further up his side. They both stilled as his hips moved tantalizingly against hers.

Lindsay's breath caught and left in a quiet high-pitched noise as she realized he was ready again. Danny sighed long-sufferingly. "Oh, well, you've done it now."

She giggled, but choked when his hand trailed down to brush her skin. "Danny," she gasped.

"Hmm?"

"Can you hurry?"

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Early that morning, the sky still pitch black against the lights of the city, Danny lay watching Lindsay sleep, wondering at the absolute stillness he felt. Nothing was wrong with the world right at that moment and he was loath to fall asleep because he'd never felt that before.

Lindsay stirred a bit and cuddled closer against his side, sighing in her sleep. Lifting a languid hand, he slid it over her hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear and out of her face. Her muscles seemed to relax all the more against him and his chest clenched at the small smile curving her lips.

He'd been fourteen his first time, she eighteen—a friend of Louie's—and he'd just had a growth spurt, which he supposed made him seem older. She'd known what she was doing and it had been good for him. They'd even done it a few more times over the course of a few weeks, and she'd shown him tricks he still used. He'd been smitten to a point. However, being the fairly self-aware fourteen year old he'd been, he'd never thought he was in love with her.

He'd spent most of his teens and twenties rolling from one bed to another, his longest relationships lasting four dates at the most. He stuck to women who knew what to say and do, women who never minded when he didn't want to cuddle afterwards. It wasn't until he was near Lindsay's age that he'd actually tried forming some sort of commitment to a woman and the experiment had been a complete disaster. Considering he'd chosen Tina—a woman whose bra size far outweighed her brain—might have had something to do with it.

Lindsay was different. Pulling her closer to his chest, he pressed a kiss to her forehead as she slept. The sex was as satisfying physically as any other encounters he'd had, but afterwards he felt calm in a way he never had before. He could tell that Lindsay didn't have as much experience as he did. But it excited him to know that he was one of the few men to ever have touched her this way.

He hadn't been particularly attracted to her at first. He'd thought she was cute, of course, but his usual type ran towards tall, buxom brunettes. Lindsay was a brunette, but the other two hardly applied.

It hadn't helped that all he'd seen was a country bumpkin replacement for his best friend, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been smart enough to notice Lindsay anyway.

It was only after she'd sassed him several (dozen) times that he began to crave the sparkle she was prone to getting in her eyes when she teased him. Then she'd shown up for work in that dress and…the rest was a blur of Lindsay.

Staring down at her placid face, he wondered what would have happened if they'd met earlier. If she'd come to NYU for school and they'd met in a bar or if she'd joined the force when he did. He wanted to think that she would've been able to capture him at any age, but they'd both taken long, hard journeys to get to where they were, who they were. And he was fairly positive he wouldn't have been smart enough to notice her.

She deserved better than him and his sordid past, but he was too weak to let her go. As long as she wanted him, he'd stick to her like glue.

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messermonroe: Did this one trump the last chapter or does Ch 21 still reign supreme? (I kinda like Ch21 better myself…I don't know why. Maybe because of the speech?) Did you see the finale???

Tenley: I'm slowly falling in love with Adam. Though I've been in love with DL for quite some time now and AJ just can't top that. (apologizes to characters) Finale was awesome. Can't say more. There are no words.

scoob2222: There you go, she jumped him! So, no hate, right? (looks nervous) : I hope this chapter came out well. This is the first time I've written smut.

daytimedrama: Hehe. No need to feel pushy. Sometimes I just need a kick in the butt to get me going.

danaa: Oh, don't worry. Connor was excellent in bed. Lindsay just never felt comfortable because until their engagement she'd never seen him as a romantic partner. He was always more of an older brother figure. And I love Connor. So he was GREAT in bed! Definitely exclamation point worthy. Also, if you'd like to continue in this little world, I have another sequel coming up. I hope you give it a try:

ReJo: Your reviews have always been so encouraging! Thank you so much for them. And for sticking with the story. And for going back and reading Can't Go Home Again. I hope you decide to continue with the next one.

Kaoli: I think Danny was scared that he'd built it all up too much in his head. And he really was worried about Lindsay thinking he'd just been holding out for the sex. (shrugs) He broke in the end. No one can stand up to a country girl for long. We TOTALLY got a DL finale!

berta101: I'm glad you liked it; I hope this one wasn't a disappointing finish to the story. : I hope you come along for the next story, too!

Devilla: Oh I think she enjoyed it, eh? (lecherous laugh) Okay, that wasn't meant to be creepy…Yeah. I like that Adam makes Jen so nervous, too. And I'm totally going to show more of their development in the next story. I love AJ.

qt4good: Season 1 is good, but I think season 2 is my favorite. Though our finale this season was awesome. I've watched the episodes from season 2 about a hundred times. If you like DL, season 2 is the season for you. (Is it just me or do I sound like a used car salesman?)

sp4zstyck: Hehe. I hope the action was hot enough for you. Yay! I'm glad you'll try out Erase and Rewind, despite my disturbing need for drama. :

seren23: I'm so falling for the AJ relationship. I mean, it can't hold a candle to DL, of course, but I still love writing it. As for Lindsay, I just can't imagine her (small town girl at heart) not having insecurities when it comes to Danny (playboy extraordinaire), you know? I mean, he's made it pretty clear where he stands…but…she's a woman. (shrugs) :-p

CarolinaH.Manning: You know, I've never come down on the side of either Smacked or Fiesta. I used to lean towards Mac as a partner for Stella, but I've recently started to like Peyton (a bit…she still annoys me sometimes). As for Flack, he's a hottie, but I always saw him as much younger than Stella in some important ways. I don't know. As you can see, I've actually give this quite a bit of thought. :-p

Quintessence of Darkness: I thought it was adorable that neither Jen nor Lindsay expected it to work. Oh how silly those two can be. Obviously Adam adores Jen. And I think Lindsay did enjoy herself in the end. As well as Danny. Hot.

serenity2bliss: I love Lindsay. She's so tough and yet so not. And she and Jen together are a great pair. They really feed off each other. At least, they do as I write them. Like I was telling seren23, I don't think Lindsay would be a normal woman if she didn't feel a bit intimidated by Danny sexually. You know?

scoj: I'm glad Jen and Linds come across well. I really love writing them together. Hopefully in the next story I can add in a few more characters as main players. This story's mostly just been DL and Freddy and now AJ. That's my goal anyway! (Remind me I said that in a few weeks, eh?) :

Kavi Leighanna: She so totally jumped him. I was so proud of her. He didn't even know what'd hit him! I do like the idea of Danny letting her pursue him, though I think he took it a bit far here.

Murgy31: Hot lovin' is theirs. I hope you liked the chapter:

chili-peppers: I'm really loving Adam and his pursuit of Jen. Or…maybe his acceptance of Jen? I dunno.

The Little Corinthian: How could I have missed the second trailer??? I must have been under a rock. So, okay, the season finale. Do you get why Bruckheimer was talking about their "destiny" being "dashed" cuz I sure didn't see that. All I saw was them being ABSOLUTELY FREAKING ADORABLE. All right, TPTB, we won't TP your house.

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AN: Thank you again to everyone who's reviewed! Especially to those who've stuck with me throughout all of my angsty ramblings from the very beginning. I really appreciate all of your words of encouragement and your constructive criticism.

More AJ in the next story. More DL, of course. And more light will be shed on The Mysterious Freddy. Dun, dun, DUUUUN. And, of course, more JenLindsay friendship because together they are badass. I'll also be throwing in a bit of Flack for good measure. I hope you guys decide to check out Erase and Rewind!


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